


In Regards to Love: Agape

by ArkHive



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Collin Farrell is Grindelwald as well as Graves, Credence just wants to be a good little apprentice to Graves, Dom/sub Undertones, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional Turmoil, Frotting, Graves and Credence are basically on the run, Graves is kind of a cocktease :'D, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, abstinence porn ahead, actual saviour!Graves, anti-religion elements (If that ticks you off pass this fic), it’ll get gradually darker as the story progresses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-08
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-07 07:47:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8789563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArkHive/pseuds/ArkHive
Summary: Graves wasn't an impatient idiot and handled the situation with Credence a lot more elegant.The result is that Credence survived and Graves and him are now on the run from everyone. But Graves keeps his promise of guiding and training Credence.Slow burn ahead!





	1. Far Away

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Grave](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grave/gifts).



> 1) Graves didn’t behave like an idiot when Credence was revealed but handled it well and Credence went with him before everything went out of control and the MACUSA peeps kill him.  
> 2) I think I took a different approach to this ship than most would except, including myself. As I went for a walk in the freezing cold with my dog and the songs of “Yuri!!!on Ice” played in my player, it suddenly hit me. I finally knew the direction I wanted to take this ship n it surprised even me. Now I only hope that I succeed with my idea :')  
> 3) I’m not a native and it’s also been awhile since I last red HP. So, any mistakes on either side are entirely mine and maybe I’ll make a fashionable party hat out of them~ 
> 
>  
> 
> Please leave a like and/or a comment if you take a liking to my approach. We authors live and thrive off this! (and Pepsi Max lol) And feel also free to leave me prompts as I want to do more with this ship! (n maaaaaaybe also smth with Yuri/Viktor. Dunno yet.)

 

They were on the run.

Mr Graves and him.

They were running from everything. Everyone. Mr Scamander. Miss Goldstein. The MACUSA. The no-majs.

Mr Graves was disapparating with him again and again and again. Trying to shake their followers.

Credence’s vision was spinning. Every emerging image was nothing but a blink. An impression. His body felt fluctuant. Out of space and time. But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. He had finally revealed himself to Mr Graves. In midst of the ruins of Modesties house. He had seen the destruction he was capable of. The anger that resided within him. The chaos. The darkness.

And still, Mr Graves was holding onto him so tight. Like he was the one afraid of getting lost in this endless stream of appearing and disappearing. Like he was the one seeing him as his only chance to be free. To feel needed. To feel wanted.

But when Credence caught glimpses of Mr Graves face in between jumps all he saw was a fierce determination. Like nothing in this world could stop him. Stop _them._

Credence almost failed to realize when they finally stopped. A cool breeze went through his hair. Somewhere he heard seagulls scream. His heart was raging in his chest and his breath felt like he’d lost it a couple of jumps prior. But it returned to him with a punch to his chest as Mr Graves leaned further into him, rested his chin on his head.

“We made it.”

That relived sigh send shivers down Credence spine.

Mr Graves departed enough from him that Credence could watch him taking in their surroundings. His sharp dark eyes scanned from left to right ones. Twice. And as if to confirm his previous statement to himself he breathed a careful “Yeah.”.

With a strange care Credence have come to known over the last months, Mr Graves was easing his hands off of him. Credence hadn’t realized how iron his grip had been around the others back. How desperate and fearful.

Mr Graves took Credence right hand between his own and lifted it to his mouth. The kiss to his knuckles felt cold and singeing hot on his rough skin. Dizziness flooded through the boys system.

“It’s okay now, boy. You’re under my protection. They won’t harm you. Ever.”

It was a promise. An oath. Spoken like a gospel. A new cosmic law for him to believe in. And Credence felt like there might be many more to follow. Like Mr Graves would reveal a new bible for him. For his long hidden powers. For the beast that resided within him.

“We have to go.”

Credence nodded instinctively despite asking:

“W-where to?”

For a moment all Mr Graves did was look into his eyes. Taking in his weak form. Considering what to do next with him. But then his face shifted skywards and then to the ocean behind them.

“England. Then Germany.”

 

+++++++++

 

It was their third day on the ship to Dover. Credence spend most of his time under deck in their tiny cabin, not used to being amongst so many foreigners, not used to not having his daily chores, not used to being on the water.

But it was Sunday and his feet had carried him along the rocking ship almost on their own. The chapel was small and cramped, so cramped like their church had rarely ever been. Credence had been too late to find a free seat but that was okay. He preferred to stand in the back. Hidden between the many other people who had failed to be on time.

The moment the pastor had started to read the first psalm Credence felt an odd tension falling off of him that had clawed at him since he’d destroyed his own church. Since he had killed Ma and the others... But that missing tension was quickly replaced by a burning tightness in his throat and gut that he knew all too well. Guilt had been his steady companion throughout his whole life. It’s been more of a friend to him than anyone else in his life.

That is, until he met Mr Graves.

A stormy feeling roared up in his stomach. Since the ship had started its journey Credence had felt sick and miserable. But right here, right now, in the eyes of the pastor, in the eyes of God, he felt everything that had happened soar up in him.

The horrible things he’s done. The horrible things that have been done to him.

From across the aisle Credence felt the crucified Jesus statue observing him. Watching him. Judging him. He knew, didn’t he? He knew that a devil resided within him. Mr Scamander had spoken of a girl who had been like him. And Mr Graves had mentioned others as well. They had all died. Every single one. Except for Credence.

Why was he still alive when others weren’t? Was he really special like Mr Graves told him over and over again? How could someone like possibly him revolutionize the world? What if it just ended up in ashes? What if he wouldn’t even care if it did?

His long fingers clung desperately to the cross around his neck. He was praying, citing gospel after gospel in order to calm his nerves. Calm his rebelling stomach.

Old habits die hard.

A hand laid itself from behind over his folded ones, ripped him out of his silent prayers. The fine leather of the expensive gloves felt like a burning iron on his bruised skin.

“You won’t need that anymore.”

The husky voice was so near to his ear that no one else could hear it. But for Credence it was the loudest and clearest thing in the chapel. Even more than the pastor’s gospel. Even more than the united prayer of the attendees.

He barely realized that Mr Graves was pulling him away from his position and guided him silent but definite out of the room and into the chilly corridor. The rocking of the ship felt somehow stronger out here. But a wave of spices and musk calmed him enough to keep the nausea at bay.

Mr Graves was looking sternly at him. Credence thought his dark eyes were scolding him but he wasn’t certain. Out of habit he bowed his head down in apology. To hide his sins, whichever one was in the pillory right now.

Moments past and then some more but nothing happened.

When Credence eventually looked up from behind his fringe with a partially puzzled partially nervous look, Mr Graves only said:

“I’ll show you new Gods. _Real_ Gods.”

 

++++++++

 

Mr Graves had taken him to a place called _Diagon Alley_. It was already the third shop he had dragged him in to get another quaintness he supposedly needed and Credence still couldn’t stop himself from gaping at everyone and everything. It was truly a different world from the one he’d grown up in. Like the looking glass of Alice. The more he saw the more Credence was convinced that this might all be just a manic fever dream. Moving pictures, flying utensils, gnomes and elves and other obscure creatures, people using strange words he’d never heard off and shops selling things he never thought could possibly exist. Or were necessary for anyone.

Mr Graves was rather patient with him and only scolded him here and there when Credence’s disbelieve got too obvious and therefore also the fact that he clearly didn’t belong here. Or, well, maybe he did but how could he ever truly fit into this new world? For the longest time he had believed himself to be a spawn of the devil and was terrified of the day when his Ma would find out his secret. But then Mr Graves had appeared out of nowhere and he had been different in _so many ways_. Credence had craved for him to take him away even before Mr Graves had started to hint at a possible training.  

But now that it all actually happened-....

The fourth store was so far the quietest one. They appeared to be the only costumers but Credence couldn’t say for sure. The shop was stacked with little boxes, row after row all the way up to the crooked ceiling. After Mr Graves had rang a flying by bell a gentle looking young man came out from somewhere in the back. He introduced himself as Mr Olivander and without any further ballyhoo the man sat Credence down onto a tiny stool.

Credence had barely time to adjust his position and figure out where to put his too long legs, as Mr Olivander appeared again in front of him with one of the many tiny boxes. Inside was a long piece of reddish wood that the shop owner happily pressed into Credence’s clammy hands.

A shock like a bolt went through Credence’s body and the stick fell ungrateful to the floor.

For a second, Mr Olivander frowned at him, then at the stick, ( _Wand_! Corrected Credence himself with an uncomfortable flutter in his stomach) and then he smiled again and went off to get another box.

And then another.

And another.

And another.

Every wand was different from the one before but every single one felt as odd to him as the one before. Some gave him shocks, others gave him pins and needles and one even made him nauseas.

Mr Graves looked increasingly concerned, unsatisfied with the overall process, and Credence shrunk away under is piercing gaze. Whatever was happening wasn’t what was supposed to happen, this much was clear.

Credence didn’t know how many wands he’d already touched. It might be the 10t or 20th or 100th wand when Mr Olivander handed him another one. One that looked similar to many of its predecessors but then again not. It was a greyish  piece of slender wood, no ornaments or curls, but if the light hit it just right, the wand looked almost blue-ish. Like a gem under the moonlight.

The moment Credence fingers curled around the smooth texture, a tingle stated to spread out from his slightly shaking hand all throughout his body. And then there was a pain. A pain from the beast within him. He could feel it roaring at the magic surrounding it. Like it wanted to get out again. But for what? To destroy or to be free as well?

Credence was afraid of not knowing. Of accidently slipping. Of hurting people again. Of disappointing Mr Graves. Of being taken away by the MACUSA or any other government. Of loosing Mr Graves.

But then the pain faded away to a dull throb in his head.

And Credence realized that the tip of the wand was spurting out the most beautiful lights he had ever seen. They were dancing all around him, circling him like curious fireflies. It took him another moment to realize that they were the only light source in the shop as every other lamp and candle had seized to burn. More and more fireflies flew around him, illuminated the room in the most fascinating ways. His eyes caught Mr Graves', and maybe it was due to the fireflies, but he thought he saw a sparkle in them. A shine. Something more than interest or curiosity. Something like...pride? Or-...

Mr Olivander clapped his hands ones in gleeful accomplishment. It was enough to startle Credence out of his fascination and make him almost drop the wand again. His fireflies disappeared in a blink and the shops lights returned in full force.

“This was truly fabulous! I’m certain we can expect great things from you, Mr Barebone! Great things!” Mr Olivander’s unexpected enthusiasm let Credence slowly elate himself from his sunken in position. The wand maker was neither scared nor appalled by him. In contrary, he was shaking his free hand joyfully and patted him onto the back. Like a job well done.

“Great things indeed.” Added Mr Graves with a warm smile and Credence could feel his face and neck heating up to the point of discomfort.

It was the first time since they had fled the subway station that Credence felt like he’d really done the right thing. Like he was right to have chosen Mr Graves offer. His _path_. Like his trust in Mr Graves wasn’t just foolish and grounded in more than mere affection for the older man.

Credence felt for the very first time like he had an actual future ahead of himself.

One in which he’d be more than an unwanted child. More than a devil’s spawn.

One in which he’d be useful to people.

One in which he’d be standing by Mr Graves side.

Credence couldn’t wait for his training to start.

 

 

 


	2. Everybody Wants To Rule The World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Graves and Credence are in Berlin now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) The word no-maj can go fuck itself. I’ll continue to use muggle cause i found the introduction of the term no-maj highly unnecessary and irritating.  
> 2) If you’ve any prompts, let me know in the comment section. I’m currently in a great writing mood n eager to do more :3  
> 3) I listened to this version of the title song to get into the right mood, so feel free to check it out too https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CAA_zE5a3JQ
> 
> Mistakes are still all mine but don't worry. They proof to be some great snack for my dog :P  
> And leave a like or comment if you liked the chapter to feed the author as well ~  
> (And thanx for all the previous comments n likes! They motivated me greatly to bring out chap 2 asap :D )

 

++++++++

 

They’ve been in Berlin for almost two weeks already. There flat was situated in the centre of the City, near the museum island and the state opera and right next to the local entrance to the magical side of the city. When Credence had asked why Berlin, Mr Graves had looked almost amused with a hint of boyish charm in his smile.

“Because that’s the place to be right now. That, or Paris. ”

The longer they were here the more Credence thought to understand why Mr Graves liked it so much. In fact, Mr Graves seemed to actually flourish since they’ve moved here. During the first days of their arrival, he’d shown Credence around in the magical part of Berlin as well as the muggle world.

Despite his general antipathy against muggle, Mr Graves did seem to like certain parts of their culture. Like the cabaret and smoky bars with talented singers and big bands and art galleries with pictures that weren’t moving about all the time. And even various famous authors and painters, muggle and wizards alike, resided in this city.  Even more than there were in New York. It was really quite overwhelming.

Though one day Mr Graves took him to the science museum only to snicker at various great inventions of the last twenty years or so. Mr Graves made a point of showing Credence how wizards had all these “ _great inventions_ ” and “t _echniques_ ” already for centuries but still they were expected to stay in the shadows and hide their greatness.

“Imagine how the world could look right now if we wouldn’t have to hide everything we are and everything we can do.”

Credence found himself agreeing. It was a very limited world, that world he had been raised in. Even the technology that the muggles actually had at hand was often forbidden and deemed as sinful, not just at Mas church but at many many other places too. _Progress_ was an unheard word in his old home.

Strangely enough though, their flat was full of books of both worlds. The muggle ones were mostly on philosophy and history but Credence had also spotted works like the Ilias and Faust amongst them. The wizard books on the other hands were almost exclusively about spells and potions and former wizard wars. Credence had no clue that even the magical world was fighting, but when he dared to take an actual look inside the books it turned out that most wars had been in fact with or about muggle. When he discovered a massive old bind about the witch trials of Salem Credence felt shame flaming up inside him. Shame and...anger.

He was too scared to imagine what would have been if his Ma had succeeded with the Second Salemers because he could feel how the obscurus within him was roaring up in fury whenever he thought about it. Thought about her. And her doings.

 

+++++++

 

When they weren’t training, there was always music running in their flat. Graves liked music. And he said they wouldn’t disturb any neighbours because he had put a spell around their place. Something complicated that made them inconspicuous and unheard, even during praxis. Mr Graves wanted neither the muggle nor the wizards to find out about their activities. It was safer this way.

To Credence it felt like a hideout, though not in a bad way. _Sanctuary_ was maybe the better choice of words. He had never felt this secure before. Even when they were out in the busy streets of _Mitte_ or _Goldener Steig_ (the Diagon Alley of Berlin) and Credence felt anxiety and insecurity well up within him, he now knew that he had a quiet and safe place to return to. An actual home of sorts.

Mr Graves was often out without him. What exactly he was doing out by himself, Credence couldn’t say for sure. But whenever he’d return his mood would be like a wild roulette. It could be anything really. From satisfied to absent to annoyed to stressed to outright angry. Credence instinctively ducked away when it was something of the latter ones and he’d tip toe around Mr Graves and try to make himself the least noticeable he could possibly manage.

It usually worked out most of the time. But at the rare occasions when it didn’t it was... strange.

Credence didn’t like Mr Graves to be angry with him. It made him feel more miserable than Ma and the belt ever could. But this storm of chaotic emotions within him usually resulted in the obscurus showing his teeth and things in the apartment would crack and break and shake. It was awful. Credence hated not being truly in control of this beast and he hated for it to latch out at Mr Graves. Mr Graves on the other hand would always be quickly at his side and apologize for snapping at him and do his best to calm him down. But like he said- it was strange.

Their cohabitation worked generally very well but on these few occasions it felt like they were both walking on some mighty thin ice. And Credence prayed that it wasn’t a matter of time before one of them snapped. Whatever that would mean in the end...

 

++++++

 

Whenever Mr Graves was out and left him alone in the flat, Credence would either read through one of the many books on magic or he’d try to do some simple spells. Nothing too complicated. Just things that Mr Graves described as _First-Year-Magic_. It wasn’t like he couldn’t try anything harder, he certainly had the power. But what he didn’t have was the control. At his first try of a lumos spell actual lightening had illuminated the apartment and left marks all along the carpet and ceiling.

Credence felt like he had too much power for his own good and he wasn’t sure if he was able to catch on with it anytime soon. If ever.

Nevertheless, Credence had the consistent urge to get better. To get something properly done. To make Mr Graves proud. To show him that their sessions were paying off. That he wasn’t betting on the wrong card. But so far he had failed miserably every time. He was already bad when Mr Graves was with him, but on his own he was outright hopeless.

A spell he tried to master almost since the beginning of their training was _expulso_. Mr Graves said given their circumstances, Credence had to learn how to defend himself quickly and without relying on the obscurus since he couldn’t control him per se. He would attack friend and foe likewise and that wouldn’t help anybody.

So he sat in the designated training room, again, and tried to let one of the teapots in front of him explode. Credence was carefully breathing in and out, fixating the cheap ceramic and held his wand towards it. He had to be careful. Careful...

“Expulso.” He almost whispered and the teapot and several of its neighbours exploded into hundreds and thousands of tiny pieces. The force with which the ceramics came apart threw him back through the room. His back collided hard with the wall, forced every bit of breath out of him. From somewhere he heard a crack and he prayed that it wasn’t any of his bones.

At least nothing felt broken. Just sore. And straining. Burning even.

A pained groan left his mouth and right as he tried to move another followed. It took Credence a moment to realize that several shards from the broken teapots were stuck in his skin. Curses! He did it again. Too much force for something that was meant to be so small. Why was this so hard for him?

“Stupid boy!”

Credence jumped at the sudden voice of Mr Graves, but instantly hissed in pain as he instinctively tried to straighten himself up from his fallen position. When did he return? He hadn’t heard the door or the familiar crack of apparition.

Mr Graves dark eyes were stern, _fierce_ with disapproval. With scold.

“I told you not to use anything dangerous when I’m not around!”

Expulso was by far not the most dangerous thing Mr Graves tried to teach him. In fact, Credence had been quite sure that this spell would be in the green zone. Especially since everything he tried could be potentially dangerous with his overflowing powers. He had to start with _something_ , right?

“B-But you also said we need to- _I_ need to be prepared.”

“Prepared, yes. But this disaster here, _no_. You’re worthless with shards sticking out of your head. I mean, look at you!” Mr Graves was vaguely gesturing at his slouched form, still sunken against the wall he had hit earlier. Credence had tried not to move too much because whenever he did he felt the cutting pain of shards somewhere in his body. “What if they had gone deeper and _actually_ hurt you? _Killed you_?”

Credence shrunk further away, his head bowed so deep that his neck started to hurt. Or maybe it was just the ceramic pieces shifting in his skin. Mr Graves continued to mumble _Stupid Boy_ while he waved his wand and Credence watched far too many shards fly away from him and fall onto a neat pile next to him. Some were much bigger than he had thought and others had been tainted red. He had wanted to make Mr Graves proud, show him that he can progress. Even on his own. And now-... He was such an idiot. His magical knowledge still so very very limited.

Mr Graves sighed and knelt down in front of him. Only now did Credence realize that his usually so neatly kept hair looked slightly dishevelled. Had he been running? Or maybe even fighting? He hasn’t been gone that long though. Credence wanted to ask him what’s going on but he felt like now wasn’t the time.

 “You’re horribly impatient for someone who had waited _years_ for his liberation.”

Mr Graves gloved fingers carefully stroked over the tiny cuts on Credence cheek, inspected them. But in order to heal him, he had to remove the gloves. The worn leather was placed right next to the shard pile and Mr Gaves’ hands returned to touch his wounded cheeks. A new wave of heat flushed the younger mans pale face.

It only increased when Mr Graves leant his forehead against his.

It was an odd sensation. Every time. This mixture of sudden closeness and the exchange of magic. Like drinking warm met during a Sunday prayer. Warming, thrilling and forbidden.

Mr Graves’ practised fingers started with Credence face. The soft tips stroked over the small wounds and the familiar tingle of regeneration ran underneath the boy’s skin. Credence closed his eyes to the touch. He wouldn’t know where to look anyway so he’d rather concentrated on Mr Graves’ hands. Even after several weeks, their gentle contact still felt like bread to a starving man. Credence wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to them. Wasn’t sure he actually wanted to.

When he was done with his face, those strong hands slowly wandered down his neck to his shoulders and arms. The tingling followed along like butterflies made of sunshine. It was the first time that he was hurt at so many different body parts at ones. The resulting warmth of the healing process made him almost feel dizzy and he leant further into Mr Graves.

Credence felt suddenly reminded of the time in the alley, when they still had to meet in secret. When he hadn’t dared yet to reveal himself as the child he was looking for. Hadn’t even been sure he _actually was_ the one he had wanted. It felt like an eternity ago.

But the overwhelming heat of Mr Graves’ touch remained the same as it had been back then.

“No more magic on your own until you’re ready. “ Credence nodded instinctively. “I can’t afford for you to have a real accident. You could get yourself killed. Or expose our position to the local ministry.” Credence nodded again. But it got harder to understand Mr Graves’ words. The way his hands kept wandering along his body made Credence all too aware of his own body. Of his breathing. Of his muscles tensing and relaxing under the healing touch. Of his heart loudly thumping away in his chest.

“You and I, we were born to make history. We’ll change this world. We’ll be free, my boy. _Truly_ free. And no wizard or witch will ever suffer again under a muggles hand.” Blood rushed violently through Credence’s ears and his stomach felt like he had just made a summersault. He couldn’t say whether it was Mr Graves’ words or his warm breath he felt so close to his own face or his hands firmly laying on his skinny legs.

Credence nodded ones again, his nose grazing the other mans.

For the briefest moment it felt like they were sharing the same air.

And then Mr Graves gave him a pat on the thigh and stood up. With a small wave of his wand the pile of shards started to fly to the middle of the room and reassembled itself into teapots. Everything was as if nothing had ever happened. Back to square one.

Credence released a shaky breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in.

When he looked up to Mr Graves the other man was looking at him with gentle determination.

“Let’s try this spell again together, shall we?”

 

+++++++

 

Grindelwald.

This name had already fallen many times during their journey to Europe and then also in their Berlin flat. Mr Graves always spoke of him like Ma had spoken of the apostles. Like something to behold of. _The man who would liberate the magical world_.

Since Mr Graves worked with him, worked _for_ him, he must be a truly great wizard. More powerful than anyone else in their generation, as he was repeatedly reminded off. But in Credence’s mind it was hard to imagine how someone could be more powerful than Mr Graves. Granted, he hadn’t met many other wizards and witches yet, but he was working through Mr Graves’ small library. And from what he gathered there and from what he’d seen Mr Graves do (what he could _feel_ radiate off of him), how powerful could this Grindelwald possibly be? What kind of a person was he?

Right now they were on their way to meet another associate of Grindelwald. Usually Mr Graves went out alone to such meetings but today Credence was allowed to come along. Why, he couldn’t say.

It was almost Winter and but the wind in Berlin’s streets was still mild. Credence’s growing out hair continuously wafted in front of his eyes and he tried to futilely put it back behind his ears. It was a bit annoying to be honest. He started to miss his old haircut. But Mr Graves wanted him to grow out his hair. It would make him look less conspicuous in Europe where the general atmosphere felt far more rebellious and free spirited than New York has ever been.

Though sometimes, in secret, Credence wondered whether Mr Graves just simply _liked_ him with longer hair. After all, he did seem to have a new habit of stroking through his slowly emerging dark waves whenever he felt like it.

No matter how many weeks have past, Credence still felt like he’d never get a full read on Mr Graves.

The sudden decision to take him along to a meeting was also right up that alley of confusion.

The man that waited for them looked oddly... feral. Like he was meant to roam through dark woods and not bright city streets. His salt and pepper hair was long and barely held together by a brittle looking hair tie. Despite his weathered skin the man couldn’t be older than thirty. The coat he wore looked well worn and like it had already survived a fire or two. But most prominent and intimidating was his general statue. All tall and broad shouldered and with muscled legs that looked barely contained in too tight jeans. When the man turned to look at them and gave a courteous nod, Credence almost expected fangs to be poking out from the corners of his mouth.

“Credence, this is Henning Graubuckel. A dear friend of Grindelwald and a keen supporter of our cause.”

The man snorted in what appeared to be amusement but a glance of Mr Graves quieted him down instantly. Instead he rolled his shoulders ones, as if to loosen them from standing too long in one place, and gave Credence a blunt ones over.

“So, _this_ is the boy?”

The smile, no, _smirk_!, that played around Mr Graves’ lips was something entirely new to Credence. It was like something that belonged to another person but somehow had found its way onto Mr Graves’ face. So full of brazen confidence and bravado and open superiority.

“What do you think?” It was an honest question towards the feral man but there was something like a dare in Mr Graves’ voice.

The feral man took a step forward towards them. His head made a faintly circling motion and Credence heard him breathing in deeply through his nostrils. A pause followed. And then there was this little twitch in his left eye. It made his steel blue orbs look even more unsettling.

“He smells different. Like burned underbrush and black earth.”

Credence was taken aghast. He _smelled_ like _what_?

Mr Graves must have picked up on his utter irritation as he explained with a softer smile than before:

“Mr Graubuckel is a werewolf.”

“Oh.” Was the only thing Credence was still intelligent enough to say. A werewolf. A real, in the flesh _werewolf_. He didn’t know why it surprised him so much. He did read about them in Mr Graves books. He theoretically knew they existed (even though they weren’t depicted in the most flattering light). Yet, seeing one so suddenly and nonchalant in front of him was something he didn’t feel prepared for. At all.

So he continued his unintelligent path and asked bluntly:

“You’re rare, aren’t you?”

“Not as rare as you are, meen jung.”

The toothy smile he gave him revealed a hint of canines after all and it was easy to imagine them grow out during his transformation. Mr Graubuckel looked already more intimidating than any other person Credence had ever met. He was nervous to think about how he’d appear in his fully fleshed out werewolf form.

“I heard you’re pretty powerful. Figures, since this guy wants you along for the ride.” Mr Graubuckel made a blasé gestures towards Mr Graves, but Credence’s hand instinctively fumbled for the cross that was hidden under too many layers of clothing. So instead he had to settle with stroking another black curl behind his ear and shrug ever so slightly. “How’s your training coming along then?”

“I-.. I’m not sure.”

Fortunately Mr Graves jumped in and explained in his usual soft voice:

“I’ll be honest, he might be still a long way from handling things on his own. The obscurus is quite a fickle thing and not easy to control. But with my guidance I’ve faith he’ll be up for his first job soon enough.”

A job? Him? What could he possibly do? He couldn’t even speak any other language than English. Which had been fine so far since Mr Graves had been by his side whenever they went out in Berlin. But being alone in a foreign country, a foreign _continent_!, with so many foreign languages... Credence hoped he’d feel more ready when the time came.

“Anyway, the reason we’re having this little meet up is so that you two can get to know each other.”

That explanation made Credence somehow even more nervous. Was this related to the future job Mr Graves mentioned?

“Why’s that?” Credence asked, his eyes shifting from Mr Graves to Mr Graubuckel. The longer he looked at the feral man, the more he could feel his own inner beast stirring around in him. Whether that was in recognition or in aggression, he couldn’t quite tell. But he had the feeling that even in his obscurus form a fight against Mr Graubuckel might not be an easy one. Or a wise one for that matter.

“We might have to move again soon. And Mr Graubuckel will most likely accompany us then. I just thought it might be better if you get to sniff at each other first, so to speak. Running with strangers tends to create problems.”

That announcement took Credence even more by surprise than the revelation of the werewolf. He had just gotten used to their arrangement here in Berlin. To their little apartment right between the two worlds. To his old, creaking bed with the warm feather blankets. To the magical room that felt more and more like a classroom to him. Or a prayer room.

“Moving? Already...? Did someone find us?”

Mr Graves shook his head but his expression did appear to be slightly annoyed.

“Not yet but someone is snooping around. This could become a problem, or not. Either way, people in our position should never linger too long in one place. ” Credence wondered if that _someone_ was someone from New York. Would they really follow them all the way across the ocean? And how could they even find them? There was something like tracking magic but it never seemed to be particularly strong over long distances. Taking in Mr Graves and Mr Graubuckel, sensing their raw magic and power radiating off of them, Credence wondered how anyone would be even stupid enough to go after them. He certainly wouldn’t if he wasn’t invited by them already.

Somehow he didn’t want to go on yet. He hasn’t even managed to properly regulate his spells yet.

Mr Graves brushed another loose curl out of Credence’s eyes, and Credence saw Mr Graubuckel frown from the corner of his eyes.

“Don’t look so sullen. We won’t move immediately.”

Mr Graubuckel stretched himself with an audible grunt and pulled the collar of his coat this bit higher.

“If this is all, _Perry_ , I’ll be going then. Still got that other thing to do you asked me to.”

“Naturally. Send me an owl when it’s done.”

Before he went off, Mr Graubuckel suddenly walked up to Credence again and leaned down to look him directly into the eyes. Only now that he was so close, Credence could see sprinkles of gold in the steel blues of the other man. They shone with something he didn’t dare to analyze any further.

“ _Henning_.” Came Mr Graves warning voice, but there was no real bite in it. It was more like a word too often repeated over the years so that by now it had lost its gravity.

Mr Graubuckel chuckled with that deep, raspy voice of his and patted, actually _patted_!, Credence on the head.

“Smell you later, Welpe.”

And then he was gone. Disappirated just like this.

Credence wasn’t sure whether he’d have preferred to meet him on the run rather than right now. It would have definitely given him less time to worry. But he was a friend of Grindelwald and Mr Graves, so he couldn’t be too bad of a guy. Right?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cookies for everyone who knows who Graubuckel is ;)


	3. Two steps forward and one back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Credence makes progress in his training, we learn more about Graves/Grindelwald and then things go boom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) As with the word no-maj, Johnny Depp can also go f** himself. I dunno how it’ll turn out with him in the end, but for the purpose of my ff Johnny Depp is NOT in the equation. Collin Farrell is Grindelwald n tricked everyone n no one really knows to this date how he looks or smth. I honestly don’t care HOW that is possible but this is how it is :’D Graves is Grindelwald but both are Collin Farrell. The end. (n this doesn’t mean that Depp might not surprise us all n be a surprisingly fantastic Grindelwald, regardless, I don’t want him in my ff)  
> 2) I do recommend listening to “The Obscurus” as well as "An Close Friend" and “He’s listening to Tina” from the FB OST for the latter section of this chapter. It was a major inspiration n emotional guideline for me.  
> 3) A note for my pumpkin- I dearly hope you like the directions I’m taking this! (those chapters get longer n longer x__x)
> 
>  
> 
> Leave a comment and/or like if you enjoyed this chapter to make sure more will follow!  
> Authors have to live from somethig too ~

 

Credence found a picture in one of Mr Graves Books. It was hidden in a book about magical myths, though it was mainly about something called the _Deathly Hollows_. Credence didn’t came far with his reading cause when the picture fell out of its worn pages, something instantly intrigued him about it.

It was a moving picture, naturally. But the two young men in it were what actually captured his attention. The man to the right was clearly a young Mr Graves, having the same stern and focused look as he has now. And despite his young age, Mr Graves already looked so powerful and proud and like nothing could ever touch him. Hurt him.

But then there was the other young man; all smile and gentle looking but not minder powerful in his appearance. There was something in his posture, the way he held himself next to Mr Graves like it was the most natural thing in the world. He realized that he still didn’t know where Mr Graves actually came from or what motivated him to seek freedom with such force and focus.

And now, seeing these two men together, exchanging little glances with each other as Credence was staring down at them, poked at something within him. Credence knew next to nothing about Mr Graves’ life. Even after they’ve spend already several weeks together.

Had he maybe been like Credence once? Looking again at the picture of the two young men told him no. He hadn’t. Mr Graves’ story was a very different one to his own.

Credence turned to Mr Graves who was sitting on the armchair on the other side of the study, writing away, as usual, in his old leather bound notebook. It must be a magical item too cause no matter how much he wrote into it, it never seemed to get full.

“Mr Graves,” Credence began slowly to get his attention. When the other man gave him a short _Hmpf_ Credence continued. “Who is this?”

It took a moment for Mr Graves to actually look up. He finished whatever sentence he was writing on but when his head lifted his facial expression quickly changed from slightly annoyed to genuinely surprise. “Oh.”For a moment Credence wasn’t sure how Mr Graves would react. He was almost ready to hear him snap at him to put the photo away and forget about it. But what he did instead was sigh and run a hand through his ever so neat hair. “This... is Albus Dumbledore.” There was something in his eyes that Credence hadn’t yet seen in them. A deep warmth mixed with something like nostalgia. And for a blink, but really nothing more, Credence thought he’d seen a hint of grief in those dark orbs. “Dumbledore.... _Albus_ is probably the greatest wizard the world has seen since Merlin.”

Surprise almost made Credence let go of the photo.

“Merlin is real?!”

“Of course he is.”

“Wow...”  That must mean the whole story about King Arthur and his knights must be true as well, didn’t it? This was- wow... Credence didn’t even know what to say to that. Hundreds of follow up questions flooded his mind. Questions about other fabled stories. About other great characters of famous books. How many more stories were possibly true after all?

But then he reminded himself that this was not the reason why he had interrupted Mr Graves’ writing session. “Wait, so, is this Albus even more powerful than you? Than _Grindelwald_?”

Mr Graves’ mouth turned into a mysterious smile.

“Well, I wouldn’t say that, no. Last time we fought we were quite evenly matched.”

Okay... So, what did this mean? Mr Graves called Albus the most powerful wizard, but he did say the same thing about Grindelwald. And Mr Graves was apparently _also_ on an even level with this Albus Dumbledore. Something felt like it didn’t quite add up. Mr Graves wasn’t someone who used words lightly, he always thought first before he spoke out. So either these three men were indeed all equally powerful or Mr Graves wasn’t telling him the whole story.

Somehow Credence felt it was the latter.

But one story at a time.

“Why did you fight? You look like good friends in this picture.”

“Albus and I, we used to be partners. We had all these ideas and hopes and dreams for the future. We worked on many projects but our foremost goal was to change the world. Just as it is still my goal today. There had been no doubt that together we could do anything. But then ... Misfortunes happened to his family and he turned on me.” There it was again, this splinter of grief in those dark dark eyes. Seeing it stirred something within Credence. It felt related to the times when his brothers and sisters had gotten more chunks of meat in their soup, or when they had been praised for their days work and Credence has been all but ignored. The feeling was similar but then again...not. It felt hotter. More substantial.

Mr Graves’ expression changed again into something darker. “If anything, Albus should have been more adamant than ever to free the wizarding world but,... well.” For a few seconds he was staring at the picture across the room. As if he could will the photo Albus to answer to his unspoken questions. But then he simply sighed again and shifted his focus back to his notebook. “Things don’t always turn out the way we hope they will, Credence. People change. You yourself should know that well.”

He did indeed.

His eyes roamed over the photo again and then over Mr Graves writing form.

“I won’t turn on you.” The words were out of his mouth before he could even think about them.

“You better not.”

 

+++++++

 

They have been at this spell for hours already. _Aqua eructo_. When Mr Graves did it, it appeared to be such a simple and easy task. The water poured out of his elegant black wand like it was never meant to do anything else. He filled cup after cup at the other side of the room and not a drop was wasted.

Credence on the other hand was the reason why Mr Graves was sitting opposite to him with a towel around his neck.

Aqua Eructo was meant to create a stream of water that he could manipulate and guide however he wanted to. However, the water Credence summoned shot out of his wand like it was a fire hose. Or a violent fountain.

Mr Graves conscientiously dried the room after every new try but the more desperate Credence became to make it work the more miserable his spell turned out. Neither of them looked especially happy to be here. How Mr Graves hasn’t completely lost his patience with him yet was beyond him.

After several hours of practise, Credence was again frustrated enough to completely block out his overflowing powers. Whenever he tried the spell now nothing at all would come out.

“I am so sorry...” Mumbled Credence, his posture sunken in and his head buried against his knees. Mr Graves looked as dissatisfied as Credence felt. Days like this were the worst.

Why wouldn’t it work? He was trying so hard! Day after day after day.

Even the obscurus was clearly annoyed with him.

Maybe it was just not meant to be. Maybe he and the obscurus couldn’t work together like Mr Graves had hoped to. Maybe they were really just meant to destroy each other sooner or later.

Mr Graves was massaging the bridge of his nose aggressively.

“Look, Credence, I _know_ you can do this. This and _so- much- more_. You just have to finally stop doubting yourself! Believe in yourself like I do.”

Credence bit down on his lower lip. The frustration level was high. From him, from Mr Graves, from the obscurus. He could feel the beast roaring inside him, ready to show the other man just what exactly he could do. But Credence wouldn’t let it. If nothing else, he still held most control over the obscurus. His silver lining at this bleak horizon.

Mr Graves’ hand was suddenly at his shoulder, forcing him to turn his head and look him in the eyes. In them lay the sort of seriousness and command that he usually reserved for Mr Graubuckel when he needed him to just listen and follow his orders. No questions asked, no back talk allowed.

“I _need_ you to succeed, do you understand? I want you by my side, I really do. But you can’t stay if I have to constantly worry about you blowing something up.”

What he meant was that he was a liability. Of course he was. Credence knew that. But he so badly wanted to be better. He tried so hard, didn’t he? What else could he possibly do? He’d do anything. He didn’t want to leave Mr Graves side. Not now. Not ever.

“You are so very powerful, Credence. I need you to find that line between yourself and the obscurus and walk it. Use it.” The hand on his shoulders squeezed down, not exactly gentle but not too forceful either. The usual warmth crept up within Credence and he felt less and less like this was about magic to him but about something else. Mr Graves scooted closer to him, moved his arm so that it was lying around Credence shoulders and his hand touched his wrist. “Okay, look- let’s try it this way.” Slender fingers curled around Credence’s wrist to lift his wanded hand. “Close your eyes. Don’t think too hard about it. In fact, don’t think about it at all. Just _feel_ it.”

Credence did as he was commanded and let his hand be guided by the other man. He could feel the usual tingle under his skin, that feeling that he had come to associate with his circulating magic. He breathed in and out. In and out. Don’t think. Just feel. Walk the line...

“Aqua eructo.”

He knew without looking that water came out of his wand ones more. He could hear it, smell it, sense it. At the other end of the room droplets were falling like rain.

“Gentle now, gentle.”

Credence continued to breathe in and out. In and out. Feel the line...

The noise of rain stopped.

Credence heart skipped a beat.

With the greatest hesitance of his life he barely dared to open his eyes. But there it was. A hovering, wavy line of water floating in the air like a translucent snake. Nothing was spilling; nothing was jetting around like a broken dam. 

“That’s it, Credence. Now guide it like you would a leaf in the wind.”

Credence absentmindedly nodded and moved his hands ever so slightly along with Mr Graves on top of his. He filled up the first cup and then the second and then the next and the next and the next. A subconscious smile played around his lips and he felt almost giddy. He couldn’t say if he ever felt happier.

When the last cup has been filled, the stream of water returned to them. It was taking an extra round around them like an excited dog, then it shot up into the air and eventually dissipated into a million little shining sparks.

Credence was so captivated by the view, by his success, that he almost didn’t realize that Mr Graves was laughing next to him. His head was leaning against his shoulder and Credence could feel the vibrations coming off of the other man’s body. He’d never heard him laugh so ... _freely_ before. So relieved. Like he was the one who finally overcame his blockage.

It was contagious. 

Before he knew it, Credence was laughing along with him. Shaking in Mr Graves’ arm with new found ease and joy and pride. He did it. He finally _finally_ did it.

Mr Graves, still chuckling with delight, nuzzled against Credence dark waves.

“That’s my boy.”

 

++++++++

 

It’s night and they’re walking through the streets of Berlin. It’s full on winter now and it’s freezing. Though the dry cold somehow felt more comfortable than the wet cold from New York, even though the temperatures were much much lower.

They’re meant to meet with Mr Graubuckel later on. But first they had to get something from a local church, the _Berliner Dom_. It wasn’t that far away from their flat so Credence had been initially quite confused as to why he was supposed to come along. But Mr Graves had insisted, had said that Credence would have to come along more often now to further his magical and mental training.

The Dom looked beautiful from the outside. Lights were shone onto the facade to illuminate it even during the night. It was like a glowing shelter for those that are lost in the darkness. A lighthouse in a spiritual storm.

Mr Graves opened its heavy doors with an easy spell and both stepped inside. Credence automatically crossed himself as he passed the gates. It was a habit so deeply burned into his being, it was like second nature to him. However, he could feel Mr Graves’ disapproving glance. It was no secret that he wasn’t exactly a supporter of any form of religion. He called it an annoying weakness of muggle’s minds. Their petty try to make themselves feel more important than they were and find meaning in a worthless life.

And even though Credence understood Mr Graves point perfectly well, he couldn’t deny that it had been his constant prayers that had kept him alive over all those years. Had kept him sane and as much in control as he could muster. It may be just a petty muggle thing but he felt grateful to it nevertheless.

It was also the reason why he continued to wear the small cross underneath his clothes. Underneath the amulet Mr Graves had given him all those weeks ago. And it was also the reason why he felt uncomfortable breaking into a church at night. Credence didn’t even know what Mr Graves was looking for in here. Obviously something important enough that he couldn’t just ask for. But also something that he couldn’t just take during the day when the dome was full of visitors and praying believers.

Mr Graves was purposefully striding towards the left ship next to the altar. Credence slowly followed behind. Both had casted the lumos spell and their wands threw an unsettling light trough out the chapel. Statues of apostles and the holy family were illuminated in the most eerie way. Credence felt judged by their ghostly eyes. How dare he break into this sanctuary. How dare he steal from them.

Credence shivered. His eyes roamed along the chapel, took in as many details as he could. Took in every statue, every stained window, every painted picture. And then he saw that even the domes ceiling was painted with giant holy men and every single one of them looked down at him. Their eyes full of knowledge and disappointment. He could almost hear his Ma scold him as well. Could feel the pain of the belt on his skin. Could feel the guilt for being who he was. For doing what he did.

His heart was raging with sudden anxiety. It was year’s old instincts that made Credence reach for his cross. That let him mumble a quick prayer in atonement for his sins and let him beg for forgiveness.

But his cross was abruptly ripped out of his clammy grip. Credence caught a glimpse of it flying through the semi darkness of the chapel and eventually landing in Mr Graves’ gloved hand.

Anger was as clearly written on his face as was the accusation within the apostles.

“ _Stop_ being this muggle Gods slave!” Mr Graves voice was like thunder within these holy walls. Credence flinched. This sudden outburst of emotions had taken him by surprise. He’d never seen him this openly furious with something before. Mr Graves was a man of subtleties not bluntness.  Except for now. “ _Every_ wizard and _every_ witch is more of a God than this muggle construct ever was!”

Credence watched Mr Graves’ fist close around the cross like he wanted to crush it, watched his face contort in open enragement. But somehow all he felt was irritation and an upwelling mutual anger.

“What does it matter?” he asked, because, yes. What did it matter to Mr Graves? Why did he care so much whether he was still believing or not?

“It matters!” was all Mr Graves answered and his voice sounded still angry. Sounded finite. No more discussions allowed.

But not this time. This time Credence couldn’t just comply.

When he saw how Mr Graves threw his cross somewhere between the many benches, Credence instantly made a move towards the tiers to get his cross back.

“Don’t you _dare_ take that back!” boomed Mr Graves’ voice like the voice of God himself.

Even so, something within Credence couldn’t just let go. Something within him couldn’t just accept this defeat. Something with him just _snapped._

Credence answered Mr Graves’ furious glare with an amount of defiance he hadn’t felt since New York. And oh, how the obscurus fed of it, like a starved animal. It was latching onto Credence’s frowardness and provocation. The resulting feeling was familiar and all encompassing and so damn empowering. From somewhere he heard Mr Graves’ discomposed voice but he couldn’t quite tell anymore what it was saying. The obscurus wouldn’t let itself be oppressed so easily this time.

Credence could pinpoint the exact moment when his body started to disintegrate into vengeful black smoke as well as the moment that Mr Graves realized that he had lost this round of willpowers. But after that there was not much he could recognize at all.

When the obscurus took over Credence always fell into the backseat.

The only things he could still somewhat make out were mainly made of irritating feelings and blurry pictures that faded in and out of his vision.

Credence felt spells colliding with his shapeless form. And here and there he heard the commanding voice of Mr Graves, saw his tense features as quickly appearing as they disappeared again.

There was rumbling and thundering and cracking. He sensed that things were falling around him. Some hit him, others went right through him. And then he was moving. Weaving towards whichever direction was possible. Cool air collided with his heated spirit. But it felt so good. To be out. To be free. To be unshackled of everything men made, muggle or not.

They spread themselves out, spread their dark wings and everything else that people wanted them to keep hidden. Credence felt the obscurus’ sense of liberation. Of their shared powers that held so many possibilities. And he realized, he wanted it all.

Another spell hit them and he hissed in pain. The attacks are changing. They became more aggressive.

The obscurus was lashing out. At everything in its way. At _everyone_ in its way.

The smell of blood arose within the frosty air.  The taste of copper lay heavy on their senses. Credence thought they might have hurt Mr Graves. How badly, he couldn’t say. A sudden wave of nausea rolled over him but he couldn’t stop the beast now that it was out of its cage. It’s been so long. Too long.

There was more crumbling, more falling and the constant noise of thunder accompanied by sharp strikes that cut like whip lashes. And then-

 “Crucio!”

Credence heard an unearthly scream echo through the night. Unfurl over the wide fields of grass around the Dom. But only when he felt himself falling did he realize that this scream had come from him as well as the obscurus. Excruciating pain shot through his body. _Their_ body. Everything was in pain. His form was forcefully pressed back together into his human body but every cell of it was writhing in unknown agony.

It was like a thousand hot knives plunging into his body at ones. He was cramping and shaking on the frozen ground. His head was splitting apart. His eyes burned with singeing tears.

And then there were hands on him. Lifting him. Holding him. Touching his contorted face.

“Credence- Credence look at me!”

Slowly, so very very slowly, did the cramps and spasms cease. The tears on his face started to feel like tiny rivers of ice. And then there was Mr Graves. Looking as ashen as Credence felt. Deep red stood in contrast to his dark hair and pale skin.  

“I’m so sorry Credence... You left me no choice.”

Blood wandered from his hair over his forehead, along his cheeks and dripped down onto Credence winter coat. With every new drop that fell onto him something broke in him. He bit onto his lip just as he did in the church. Even with his vision still blurred he tried to take in Mr Graves’ form above him. He’d never looked this much in disarray. His hair was tousled, partially stained and crusted with dirt, rubble and blood. His coat was ripped at several places and more red painted his left arm and hand. A layer of grey rubble and ash coated almost every part of the other man.

A glance behind him revealed the destroyed front of the dome looming over them like a wounded animal.  A fallen angel.

Mr Graves clearly had held himself back. Had tried to mostly deflect Credence’ attack. Had taken more than he’d given back.

Credence chocked on an upwelling sob. It was all his fault. The church. Mr Graves. All because he couldn’t let go of the cross.

Mr Graves seemed to sense what he was thinking because he said:

“I just can’t let you-...” His tense face shifted into resignation. Then into worry. Then into determination. His bleeding left hand came up to touch Credence’s face. His grip was oddly soft and his thumb was stroking along his cheek. “If you need worship so badly in your life, worship _me_. Let _me_ be your God.”

A rush of adrenaline and something he couldn’t name yet was surging through Credence body. The tears and the pain have stopped and left him with an odd sense of clarity. A new revelation was at hand. He just had to reach for it.

And reach he did.

Before he could think about it too much, Credence’s own dirtied hands came up to embrace Mr Graves’ face and he was pulling him down into a kiss. The touch of their lips was so soft and brief, like a summer breeze stroking through a girls hair. But the feeling it awoke in Credence was as hot as the burning sun.

Mr Graves pulled back first, appearing incredibly surprised and for ones at a loss of words. It made him look strangely young. More like the man he’d been in the photo with Albus Dumbledore.  

But suddenly Credence sensed something. Someone was closing in to their position. Mr Graves must have felt the same cause he helped him straightening up.

Credence was barely on his feet when a familiar worn down coat came into his view.

“There you are! You weren’t at the meeting point and then I heard the noise. ‘You guys alright?” It was Mr Graubuckel. Waves of steamy air appeared where he spoke but strangely enough his outfit still hasn’t changed much since the fall. Maybe werewolves weren’t as sensitive to the cold as other humans were.

“Yes, more or less.” Mr Graves answered with a glance at the destroyed dome entrance. “Did you get him?”

“Natürlich! Sniffed him out like the rat he was. He won’t be a problem anymore.” His nonchalant smirk held up only for a moment because Mr Graubuckel took in the sight of the dome as well. He clicked his tongue and shook his head. “Nevertheless, taking the rat and the mess you just made into account, I’d recommend we pack up our shit and go. Asap.”

“Agreed.” Was Mr Graves short answer.

A new but far less violent wave of guilt went through Credence. If Mr Graves weren’t already lifting his wand to start repairing the damage they, _he_ , had done Credence truly wouldn’t know what to do. But thanks to the wonders of magic he could settle with mainly feeling bad for not being able to help the other man out.

Mr Graubuckel was rather unfazed by the destruction and the states they were in. Though he did take out his own wand to support Mr Graves’ repair work.

“Where to next, boss?” he asked while reassembling one of the angel statues.

“Paris.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go kids, slowly making my way towards the justification of this fics rating lol


	4. Nomads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio is on their way to Paris, things get messy and then even messier. Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) So I watched “Lobster” and boy oh boy, what a strange experience this movie has been :’D At first it was like watching a car accident and then it got really charming n then all crazy again. That ending though, dear lord x~x   
> 2) There’s a lot of Graubuckel in this chapter. He’s just such a joy to write, idk. But you guys seem really intrigued by him so far so I hope you don’t mind :’)  
> 3) Rejoice! I continue my slow way towards the M rating *yay*
> 
>  
> 
> As always, leave a like and/or comment behind to feed the poor little author and their dog!  
> You don't wanna be responsible for us starving, right? riiiiiiight?

+++++++

 

The train was rattling along the rails into the west. Towards Paris. The rhythmic noise of the machines and the wheels gliding along metal was almost hypnotic. If the weather won’t worsen and force the train to slow down, they should arrive at some point next morning.

Credence couldn’t wait to get out of the cabin and into a real bed.

They had a four seat- cabin to themselves. But Mr Graubuckel was a huge man and took already 2 seats up all by himself. His long legs constantly got tangled up with Credence’s own gangly limbs and neither of them was very happy about this situation.

The last train trip with Mr Graves had been far more comfortable but Credence still preferred their current set up over another tour with a ship. Even though he felt similarly miserable right now. Only for different reasons this time around.

The fight with Mr Graves had taken its toll on him. The obscurus was acting up inside him, like a starving shark that had smelled blood and now wanted _more_. Credence’s body was constantly cramping and the effort to keep the rebelling obscurus suppressed resulted in a fever.

Mr Graves speculated that Credence’s state may be the piled up result of their constant hard training as well as the fight and now also the move. They really hadn’t had much of a break since they came to Berlin.

Credence had already taken medicine offered by Mr Graves but its effects were rather minimal. It wasn’t the first time Credence felt like this and his experience told him that this was something he just had to ride out. It was another battle of wills. And only one could come out on top; The obscurus or him.

But even with that knowledge Credence couldn’t deny the ever present fear that this would be his last battle. As he had grown older the obscurus had grown stronger. His powers may have shielded him so far but for how much longer? Credence knew by now that people like him weren’t meant to live. His age in itself was already a miracle and he couldn’t effort to take it for granted. If he let up now it could be all over...

Credence tried to readjust himself in the seat, put his aching body into a less straining position. And again he was getting ravelled up in Mr Graubuckel’s endless legs. Only this time the other man actually _snarled_ at him in obvious annoyance. Tension and discomfort were written all over the werewolf’s face. It appeared like he had reached his limit for the moment.

“I need a break from the fever stench.” Mr Graubuckel grunted, pushed himself up and off his seat and left their cabin with tense shoulders that almost touched his ears. Credence hadn’t even thought about how he must smell right now to a werewolf. The urge to apologize for the inconvenience was great but the feral man has already gone down the hall. For a brief moment he wondered where a man like him would go. Credence knew even less about their travel companion than he knew about Mr Graves.

But with Mr Graubuckel gone, Credence could finally stretch out his stiff legs for the first time in hours. Unfortunately, the resulting relief was only short lived as another wave of cramps hit him. He was shaking in his seat, breathing the stuffy air in like an asthmatic that battled for any smidge of oxygen.

“Sh sh sh, it’s gonna be okay.”Mr Graves told him in that soothing voice of his.

A hand landed in his neck, massaging the tense muscles there. Credence made a noise that was somewhere between appreciation and a suppressed growl. The wet towel that was magically attached to his forehead was exchanged against a new one.

“I used to know a girl who was like you. So much power contained in such a fragile body. A fragile mind..” The hand in his neck was wandering up to stroke through his thickening dark curls. Those strong fingers felt so good when they touched his skull, massaged it like they had done with his neck before. Credence automatically leaned into Mr Graves’ hand, silently asking for more. “Muggles had beaten and tortured her as a child and she never fully recovered from this tragic incident. Her trauma made her an obscurus, like you.”

Credence didn’t know the girl but he felt sympathy welling up inside him. Somehow her story didn’t sound that different from his. Ignorance and fear created violence and abuse all too easy. When waking up, his own hands still sometimes burned with a phantom pain. The belt never quite left him nor did the punishing glare of his Ma. The time with Graves taught him that no magical being should be this unfortunate to be raised by muggles.

Mr Graves’s hand wandered back to his neck.

“She also got older than ten, like you. In fact, think she was around your age when she died.”

Credence’s head turned towards Mr Graves. His vision was slightly blurred from the fever but he could still see the regret on the older man’s face. The sorrow. He wondered how close he had been to the girl. Wondered where he’d known her from. But mostly he wondered.....

“...The obscurus?”

Credence’s hand automatically went to the pendant around his neck. Since his cross was lost in the Berliner Dom, his remaining anchor was the necklace Mr Graves had given him in New York. Credence found that he really didn’t mind anymore.

( _Let me be your God._ Credence felt heat creeping up and down his chest whenever he thought of those words.)

Mr Graves shook his head, a compunctious smile played along his lips.

“No. It was an accident. A very tragic and unnecessary accident. But I suppose, in the end... It was really all my fault. She was an innocent, a victim of muggles, and I-...”

Mr Graves did that often. Talking in fragments and letting them run out with some cryptic notions. Credence was still unsure whether it was truly hard for Mr Graves to speak about his past or whether he didn’t want to reveal too much of himself to the younger man. Though right now, even with his mind all hazy and his cheeks practically burning up, Credence was certain he heard true pain and remorse within the husky voice.

“What I want to say with this is, I know you’re worried Credence. But I won’t let anything happen to you.” Mr Graves punctuated his claim by pulling Credence towards him. He let Credence’s head rest on his shoulders while he resumed to stroke soothingly through his hair. “You’re so much stronger than you think. All you need is my guidance to fully live up to your potential. Be the victor and never again the victim.” It’s the first time Mr Graves was so close to him since their fight. It made Credence remember their kiss. _His_ kiss. He had kissed Mr Graves and he couldn’t find a piece of regret within him.

He knew he should feel guilty or at least confused or anxious about what he did but he just didn’t. Mr Graves hadn’t said anything about it, just gave him a few curious looks here and there. One thing Credence could say with fair certainty was that Mr Graves wasn’t angry with him. In fact, nothing much has changed since their fight day before yesterday. Maybe Mr Graves was just too busy with planning their move or maybe he really hadn’t minded. And _this_ thought on the other hand did make Credence nervous because it created all kinds of bawdy scenarios in his head that he didn’t feel ready to cope with yet. (... _Let me be your God..._.) He had already the whole magical apprentice for a rebelling wizard thing going on. He wasn’t sure he could handle another uncharted field of mysteries and complex emotions.

“When we’re in Paris I want you to relax for a few more days. Recharge your batteries, collect your thoughts.”

Credence’s was turning the amulet around between his slender fingers. It was nothing like his cross. It felt less sharp, less demanding while at the same time promising so much more. Freedom. Power. Control. Though the most important thing had already been granted to him; Mr Graves had given him salvation.

( _Let me be your God_.)

 “Okay.”Credence nodded slowly against Mr Graves shoulder.

“Good. And when you’re healthy again we will take the next step in your training.”

 

+++++++

 

Credence had made great progress over the last two weeks, with his spells as well as with regaining control over the obscurus. He guessed something must have _clicked_ within him during the fight with Mr Graves. Or maybe he really just needed to rest for a few days.

He could definitely feel that he’s gotten stronger since New York. Much stronger. But so did the obscurus. Their beings are much more entwined that Mr Graves had originally thought, but he still harboured the hope that one day Credence would have full control over the shadow creature and could use these additional powers to their advantage.

For this reason he had asked Mr Graubuckel to become Credence’s mentor too. The werewolf was the ideal choice to teach him about the symbiosis between man and beast. How to better tap into those slumbering powers and how to make the beast work after your will and not the other way around.

Credence wasn’t sure Mr Graubuckel was exactly happy to suddenly have a scrawny novice tailing him but he didn’t say anything against him either. By the time this new plan got revealed everything had been already said and done between his two mentors. Though Credence had the feeling that Mr Graubuckel hadn’t had too much of a say in this matter after all...

To start off their training Credence was required to accompany Mr Graubuckel during several of his lighter errands. Most of them were during the night because less people would be around and that made it always easier for people like them to move about. Especially when magic was involved. At first, Credence didn’t really see the point of him following the werewolf around. He had expected something different when he was told Mr Graubuckel would be training him as well. But when he had asked Mr Graves about it he had looked at him like he was missing the most obvious thing.

“It’s to build trust of course. You’re a very sensitive boy, Credence. I couldn’t let you hurt him or yourself because you feel threatened by something Henning says or does. You surely noticed that he isn’t exactly fine dinner company.”

Credence had been only able to nod to that because, yes, that did make sense actually. A lot even. The attention to detail that Mr Graves showed never ceased to amaze Credence.

That didn’t mean though that Mr Graubuckel wasn’t making him nervous anyway. But not for the reasons he’d expected. Running through the night with the tall werewolf was ... strangely liberating. There was a certain resonance that radiated off the man that the obscurus seemed to respond to. Had been from the very first day, if Credence was honest. It was similar to the way it reacted to Mr Graves whenever he displayed his powers, but then again not. It felt more... fiery. Almost challenging.

Mr Graubuckel must recognize the moments when the obscurus was baring its teeth within Credence, cause every time it did those steel blue eyes would zero in on Credence. And sometimes he would gave him an equally challenging smirk and other times he’d pat his head (as it seemed to be his habit with Credence) and tell him to take a breather.

And this was what he did right now. _Taking a breather_.

Credence sighed in suppressed annoyance and settling in resignation. It wasn’t even like he couldn’t stand Mr Graubuckel. Quite the contrary actually; He admired the werewolf for all his rare strength and his seemingly easy control. When he fought he was an unstoppable beast, but when he was with Mr Graves and him he was like the most relaxed person he’d ever met. Grumpy now and then, sure, but easy going nevertheless. Credence really wished he could be more like him. Worry less and be already more useful to their agenda.

Credence sighed again. The moon was almost full and additionally illuminated the already bright plaza. Christmas was near and people were streaming along the streets despite the chilling temperatures. Most of them must be on their way to or from a Christmas party. Others might just enjoy a nightly stroll through the first layer of snow that had covered Paris yesterday.

Mr Graubuckel had vanished into one of the nearby magical back rooms. _La chat vert_. They had been in this one before to trade strange objects Credence had no clue about. He also had no clue about what the werewolf would be doing in there tonight. Maybe another trade. Maybe to get information’s. Maybe to seal a deal.

But while Credence pondered about the possibilities, while also doing his new breathing exercise to calm the obscurus down, some passerby bumped into him. The mutual apology was instant and automated and he didn’t pay much mind to the clumsy person. That is until Credence realized that the apology hadn’t been in French but in English. British English.

He turned to see an equally stunned Newt Scamander standing next to him.

“It’s you!” the ginger proclaimed in open surprise.

Credence flinched, automatically glancing around whether that outcry had attracted any unwanted attention. The world was such a vast place, how was this even possible? How could he stumble upon Mr Scamander of all people?

“We’ve been looking all over for you, Credence. Are you alright?” Honest concern was written on the freckled face. But Credence was more occupied with checking whether Mr Graubuckel was already back or not. What should he do? Mr Scamander had been nice to him but still- “Are you still with Mr Graves?”

Credence quickly averted his gaze and turned to make his leave.

“What about the obscurus? I still would very much like to help you with-“

When Mr Scamander reached for him, Credence quickly brushed his hand off. Don’t look at him. Just go. Go and vanish somewhere in the crowd.

“I’m sorry but I think I should go now.” Credence dismissed him quickly and made for the busy main street that bordered the plaza. For ones his gangly legs actually seemed to be useful as he made long strides away from the Brit. He had to be fast but not too fast as to attract suspicion from the people around them.

But it appeared like this wannabe escape wouldn’t be any easier than the rest of Credence’s life.

Mr Scamander seemed insistent on following him. He could hear his voice calling out to him, his equally long steps rushing after him.  The main street was even busier than the plaza which was good. But because there were so many people, Credence had to struggle to get through the masses. The closer Mr Scamander came the harder he tried to make his way through the crowd. More and more people shouted out when he bumped into them, cursed at him. Credence quickly apologized and continued his way through the ocean of people. The warmth of the people around him, the hectic, his increasing panic- Credence could feel himself slip. Feel himself shift. Feel familiar smoke arising from his fingers.

“No. No no nononono. Not now.” He tried to calm himself. Remember to breathe. _Breathe_. You are the host. _You are in control_.

But then there was Mr Scamander again and Credence had to look up at him. He hadn’t even realized how he had sunken into a crouching position. Other people stared at him as well, some with worry, some with concern, others with suspicion. Credence wished he could just disappirate.

“Oh. Oh dear. Okay. Don’t worry. It’ll be okay. I really don’t want to hurt you, Credence. Just, try to calm down, okay? There’s no need to panic.” Mr Scamander’s words sounded as uncertain as he looked. He had seen what Credence could do. What might happen if he were to shift. Mr Scamander knew as well as Credence that he wouldn’t be able to stop him.

A shadow appeared behind Mr Scamander and it took Credence a second to recognize the looming mountain as Mr Graubuckel. He shoved the Brit unceremoniously aside and knelt next to Credence.

“I leave you for one second, Meen Jung. _One second_.” His voice was gruff but his face was as serious as it was prior to any other fight. Big hands were laid above Credence’s smoking ones, shielding his instability from the bypassing onlookers.

Mr Scamander had picked himself back up and was taking a new step towards them. Credence instantly knew that this was a mistake.

The werewolf turned his head towards Mr Scamander, his eyes gleaming with danger and his canines slowly growing to pass his thin lips.

There was a rising murmur in the crowd around them. Oh God. He couldn’t let Mr Graubuckel let transform here. Not even partially. It would be an all out wizard battle on a filled muggle street. The werewolf might take Mr Scamander apart in front of all these people. He couldn’t let that happen.

“No, don’t!” Credence pleaded with Mr Graubuckel, balling his covered hands to fists.

Mr Scamander had never harmed him. He was a good person, wasn’t he? He said he’d known people like him, a girl obscurus. He had only wanted to help back then. He didn’t deserve to be killed for that. For _knowing him_. Not to mention the commotion they would create. The local ministry would be on them within minutes.

It was more surprising than it should be when Mr Graubuckel turned back to face Credence instead. Their eyes locked and he knew the werewolf understood. Without another word, he picked Credence up from the ground and hurriedly carried him down the street. He threw one more glance back at Mr Scamander. The message was clear. _Don’t follow_.

As soon as Mr Graubuckel saw the first side alley he took the turn and used the cover to disapparite.

When Credence’s vision cleared again he saw that they were standing in the sitting room of their current apartment. Mr Graubuckel gently put him down but instantly angled for his hands again. Steel blues critically glared down at them, but when he realized that the smoke was no more he relaxed and let go of Credence.

“Start to pack up. I’ll send a paper robin to Perry.”

Mr Graubuckel took out his wand and started to enchant a page from today’s gazette.

Credence felt new guilt rising up within him. He did it again. Thanks to him they had to break up their tents and leave the city. They had barely been here at all. Wouldn’t that interfere even more with whatever Mr Graves was doing here?

“Do we really have to go already?” he asked even though he already knew the answer to it.

“Thanks to your ginger friend, ja.” Mr Graubuckel opened a window and guided the paper bird out into the night. He continued to stay at the window for another moment to watch after the bird. A large hand came up to sullenly scratch the back of his neck. “Well, this was certainly a short stay.”

Yeah, it was... How long would it take before the paper messenger would find Mr Graves? And even more important, what about the ministry and Mr Scamander? Credence somehow doubted that the Brit would go to the authorities to tell them of their encounter. He probably tried to stay low as well. Mr Scamander might not even come looking for him anymore now that he saw that he already had someone to look out for Credence.

It had been easy enough to get lost in New York, why couldn’t they do it again in Paris?   

Credence took a hold of his amulet. Mr Graves wouldn’t be happy about this...

 

++++++

 

They were on the road again by the time full moon hit them.

They had taken rest in a small rural hotel in southern Germany for the night. It was unusual for them to stop between destinations but Mr Graves had said that it was a matter of precaution. Full moons were wolf moons. He didn’t want to strain Mr Graubuckel’s control. A train cabinet was apparently too dangerous as something small could set him loose.

It was Credence’s first time to actually witness Mr Graubuckel during this time of the month. They had shared the flat in Paris but they hadn’t stayed long enough for a full moon to come around. It made him feel even guiltier that they had to leave at such a difficult time. Though Mr Graubuckel assured him that it was fine. He had been wandering from city to city for his whole life. Improvisation was nothing new to him. And he wasn’t a _Stöpsel_ anymore (which Credence assumed meant something like child?), Credence didn’t have to worry that he’d be at his throat in his sleep.

Credence believed him but the obscurus had a different point of view. It had been shifting and rolling around in him all day, responding to the tense state of the werewolf. Even during his spell training with Mr Graves it had acted up as soon as Mr Graubuckel had re-entered the hotel room back from his walk through the woods.

Mr Graves wasn’t exactly worried about being trapped with two tightly woven beasts, but he did get more annoyed over the day. His solution to the problem was to keep them apart for as long as necessary. Which meant at least until the moon would be over. This strategy started with him renting out another double room where Mr Graubuckel and he would stay for the night, leaving Credence alone in the neighbouring room.

This was another new thing.

Usually Mr Graves stayed close to him at all times during travels. Lingered around him like a guardian deity, ready to jump at his side if something should happen. But not tonight.

In answer to his puzzled look Mr Graves had answered that this was an exception. _Henning_ might need him tonight. And we wouldn’t want an out of control werewolf attacking the other poor hotel guests now would we?

No, no we wouldn’t...

Still, it was strange lying alone in this rustic room. The darkness embraced Credence like an old friend but this was as far as familiarity went. He wasn’t used to sleeping alone. At all. While he was still living with Ma, Credence had shared the attic with several of his siblings. Before that he had slept in overcrowded rooms in the orphanage.  And since they had left New York, Mr Graves had usually shared a room with him.

The complete silence was strange to him. No one who breathed softly away in their sleep. No one who snored. No one who tossed and turned until they found a suitable sleeping position.

There had been many days when Credence had wished for some calm and quiet during the night but right now it only made him feel lonely.

Seconds, minutes and hours went by but he couldn’t come to rest. He turned around in the bed for the hundreds time and then he heard it. Noises from the neighbour room. From the room his mentors were residing in.

It was faint and he had to cock his ears to make them out, but they were definitely there. Soft grunts and muffled strained voices.

Credence’ heart beat instantly picked up and woke the resting obscurus within him.

Was Mr Graubuckel turning?

He heard a damped curse through the wooden walls and instantly sat up in his bed.

Credence knew it was stupid but sudden curiosity drove him out of the warm sheets. The obscurus still felt calm enough to risk a look. He realized that he had never seen the other man fully turn. He only ever partially wolfed out in bar fights were he clearly preferred brawns over wands. If Mr Graubuckel was shifting right now Credence wanted to see it. He couldn’t quite explain why, just that he did. See the true beast that lived in Mr Graubuckel. Compare it with his own.

Quietly, he left his room and walked the few steps towards the neighbouring door. The noises were louder were he stood. Credence hadn’t seen their room but he suspected that it was mirrored to his own. To get a better impression of the situation Credence leaned against the door, close enough so that his ear was touching the aged wood.

And now he could hear them clear enough. Their voices seemed weirdly tight.

“How’s the boy coming along?” This was Mr Graves. Were they talking about him? A nervous flutter went through him but he forced himself to stay calm.

“Fi-argh... Fine. Started with meditation the- ah, other day.” Mr Graubuckel’s voice sounded like something he’d never heard before. Tense and grunting and like he barely held it together.

This was it, right? He was shifting? He had to see. He just _had to_.

Credence took a deep breath before he slowly, _slowly_ and so so quietly opened the door to the room. Not wide but just enough that he could peak. However, what he saw inside wasn’t a man about to shift into a giant wolf. Not at first at least. What he saw instead was Mr Graubuckel, naked as the day he was born, half sitting half leaning at the table that was probably included in every room. Mr Graves stood between his widely spread legs, shirtless and open suit pants. His left hand was holding Mr Graubuckel’s right leg in place while his right hand was firmly placed between the werewolf’s butt cheeks. Seeing them like this made Credence’s vision blurry for a second. Something in his head felt like it was being poked by a hot needle. His first thought was that Mr Graves looked strangle small between the huge mans open legs. His second thought was a flood of questions and curses and images and disbelieve and all he could really feel was an instant heat that took over his entire body.

“Great to hear. How far is he away from doing a test shift?”

Mr Graubuckel grunted again in that specific tone that Credence had already heard through the door. Only now he knew that it wasn’t because he fought with the wolf inside, it was because Mr Graves’ shifted his hand between his cheeks. The grunt turned into a stretched out low moan.

“I dunno- Argh! Merlin, fuck-!” The werewolf’s fangs lengthened and retreated again. He looked unstable. He looked dishevelled. He looked wanton. Even from his position at the door, Credence could see the steel blues shift to a bright gold that glared provocatively up at Mr Graves. “Maybe ask me when I’m – aaah~, less occupied?”

Mr Graves chuckled darkly. His voice so smooth and seductive that it stole Credence breathe away.

“Do I distract you?” If he had to describe Mr Graves’ face in this moment he’d call him the fallen angel himself. Unearthly beautiful but so temptingly sinful that Credence felt a violent mixture of want and shame rush through his body like lightening. He bit his lip to refrain from making any noises.

Mr Graubuckel leaned down to Mr Graves’ smirking form and pulled him with a hungry snarl into an equally aggressive kiss. Credence had to put a hand against the door frame to keep him upright. He felt reminded of the first time after he had shifted into the obscurus; overloaded with sensory inputs, endlessly confused but also secretively fascinated. His knees were wobbly and he was eternally surprised that the werewolf hadn’t picked up on his frantic heartbeat yet.

When they parted Mr Graubuckel moaned again and his head fell against the other mans neck. His massive body was greedily shifting against Mr Graves’ hand and groaned curses echoed through the room. Mr Graves chuckled again.

“Less talking and more fucking, Gellert!”came Mr Graubuckel’s strained voice and Credence was hit with another lightning bolt.

Maybe he did make a noise after all or maybe it was just coincidence. But Mr Graves chose this moment to turn his head towards the door. Their eyes looked through the room. Mr Graubuckel’s steady noises vibrated through Credence’s body as did the intense stare Mr Graves gave him. He wasn’t surprised, he wasn’t smiling, he wasn’t provoking. He was just staring at him with an expression Credence couldn’t define.

And then, just like that, he returned his attention back to the werewolf, as if he hadn’t noticed Credence at all. A tense breathe was leaving his burning lunges he hadn’t even realized he had held in.

When he saw the older man bite into Mr Graubuckel’s thigh and saw the werewolf throw his body back against the table in an all out debauched gesture, Credence carefully retreated from his position and closed the door.

He tip-toed back to his room as quietly as he had come.

As he slipped back between cooled down bed sheets, Credence noticed that his pyjama bottoms were tenting. There was no more room left for him to feel guilty. And while he tried to understand what he had just witnessed, his hand wandered down to his own nether regions.

 

 ++++++

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahahaha, I feel like I should apologize for making the first sexy scene not even about the main ship :’’DD ces ´t la vie I guess.   
> Hope you enjoyed it anyway <3


	5. Eye of the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secrets are lifted.  
> Graves and Credence take a step forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) Sorry this chap took longer than the others. Had some stuff to sort through which damped my muse :/ It’s also a bit different from the prev ones as I first wanted to work through the prev night and finish that before we go on to the next thematic.  
> 2) I had to cut the chap a bit shorter than usual so that next one will be a rounder story and easiert to enjoy. (especially since the next parts will be long ones again and it would have exploded the frame of this chap to start that arc already)  
> 3) It's been quite the ride so far and I'm thankful to every one of you for supporting this little ff with your amazing comments and continous kudos! Thanks guys!! Cookies on the house for everyone and their pets :D

+++++

 

It was the day after and Credence had never felt this tired or insecure sitting at a breakfast table with Mr Graves. The older man had taken several items from the kitchen and had brought them up into Credence’s room. This was highly unusual and Credence had already his suspicions as to why Mr Graves didn’t want them to breakfast in the dining room.

Mr Graubuckel was apparently already out for another run through the woods. _To cool his head down_ , were Mr Graves’ exact words. But it felt like a half truth.

They sat opposite of each other; buns, butter, jam, cheese and coffee spread out between them on the table. Mr Graubuckel apologized that they didn’t have any tea in the kitchen but Credence barely listened. His eyes were fixated on the dark wood of the table; A twin table to the one that was in the room of his mentors. An involuntary flush creeped up Credence cheek and only intensified the longer he stared at it. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to avert his eyes; the image of Mr Graubuckel spread out on it was as clear in his mind as the jam bun on his plate. 

“So, you saw us.” It was a statement so nonchalant and straight forward that Credence felt flabbergasted. His eyes shot up from the table and looked straight into the calm dark orbs oppose to him. “I apologize if we woke you, I told him to keep it quiet.”

“No, I-.. I just- I couldn’t sleep. And then I heard-...”Credence trailed off. The fingers of his left hand were subconsciously softly scraping at the table.

“It helps Henning trough full moons. It’s the only time of the month were even he has control issues. It’s either this or a hunt.”

Mr Graves’ piercings eyes were holding his gaze, allowing him time to let the information sink in.

“I- I understand.”

“Do you?”

He did. He couldn’t exactly say that he was thrilled about it except that he sorta was, but in a way he’d never expected. Not even _considered_ , up to this point. There was still so much he had to learn about the magical community and their various needs. But Credence gets it. He really did. A hunt could attract attention or worse, leave a trail. What they did last night was the better solution. Mr Graubuckel had needed Mr Graves. When he broke it down to the lowest common denominator, than it wasn’t actually that different from the various times the older man had helped out Credence. Even if _this_ kind of help kept Credence wide awake for most of the night.

However, as confusing and weirdly exhilarating as that whole experience has been, the thing that really itched under his skin was a very different one.

“He called you Gellert.”

For the split of a second Credence thought to see something flash across the older man’s face. What exactly, he couldn’t say.

Mr Graves remained silent though, just watched him like a hawk with those dark dark eyes of his. He waited for the inevitable question to drop.

And Credence, as always, delivered.

“Are _you_ Grindelwald?” Just saying those words made his chest feel tight and his pulse rage. He had agonized about Mr Graubuckel’s slip of the tongue all night. Even more so when he came to the conclusion that it couldn’t possibly have been a mistake. Not from the werewolf and especially not in that kind of situation. Credence had brooded hour over hour about what this meant. For their past, for their future.

“My dear boy, what do you think?”

“I want the truth!” Credence blurted out without much thinking. But it was really all he wanted. He couldn’t bear to be lied to, not by Mr Graves. Not after everything. It made him ones again feel like someone was about to pull the carpet away from under his feet.

To his surprise Mr Graves chuckled into the coffee cup he’d been holding. It was far too similar to the one he had heard yesterday. That sinful dark husk of a chuckle.

“You _want_ truth? Oh Credence, you are what? Eighteen? Nineteen? You don’t know yet what you want. Believe me.” A soft smile played around those thin lips. Credence expected to see condescension but all he recognized in those familiar features was deadpan honesty. Or maybe bitter experience. “And especially verity can be such a dangerous thing when held in the wrong hands.”

What was that supposed to mean? That he didn’t trust him? He had never given Mr Graves any reason to doubt him. Sure, he wasn’t yet at the magical level the other wanted him to be, but he had made so much progress in the last month. He was showing again and again how much he wanted this. Wanted to help. Wanted to be part of Mr Graves, _Grindelwalds_ , vision.

Credence’s head was spinning. If he had had little appetite before he had lost it completely by now.

“But-... You are him, ...right? You are _really_ Grindelwald?” Credence paused and tried to collect his thoughts. His feelings. At least the obscurus wasn’t as agitated as he was yet. His fingers were again scraping subconsciously at the table’s wood. “Was everything a lie?”

Mr Graves sighed. And Credence wondered faintly if he should even still call him that.

“Not at all. The name was a lie because it’s what you were meant to hear. For the moment at least.” He took another sip of his coffee. “Everything else was the truth though.”

It was impossible to say whether he should believe him. But Credence really wanted to so _so_ badly. After all, Mr Graves ( _Grindelwald,_ he kept reminding himself) had rescued him in New York. He had taken him away and he had started to teach him, as promised. It might be really just his name, but then-....

“... Why wouldn’t you tell me? Did you ever planned to?“ Credence bit onto his lower lip in tension. On second thought he added: “And who is Mr Graves then?”

While Credence was literally sitting at the edge of his seat, the older man was as relaxed as if they were having a polite talk about the weather. How could he always remain so in control? So detached? Wasn’t he even a little bit worried about how Credence would process all these news? If he was it didn’t show. Instead Mr Graves ( _Grindelwald!_ ) took another one of the fresh buns and began to put butter, cheese and jam onto it.

“Percival Graves is me of course. I created him years ago to have a footing within the ministry of magic and MACUSA. It also worked quite well if I may say so. Only a few selected people know that I’m Percival Graves as well as Gellert Grindelwald.”

“People like Mr Graubuckel?”

“Yes. We’ve got quite the history. He knows me foremost as Gellert and only secondly as Graves.” History... Credence wondered what this implied as a whole. Did they know each other as long as he and this Albus Dumbledore do? Or rather _did_ , because they aren’t friends anymore, are they? Because they didn’t agree with the paths they each wanted to take. Was this about to happen with them too?

“And to your other question; yes. I would have told you in due time. Thanks to last night’s events though everything got simply a bit preponed.”

Credence nodded absentmindedly. Barely registration his words. Panic started to well up in him. And with it all the other confusing feelings and fears that he had tried to suppress throughout the night. It felt similar to back then with Ma and then again not; Credence felt like he should react differently to what was revealed in front of him, but contrary to Ma he didn’t wanted to fight. He wanted this to work out so badly. Frantically even. His mind was poking at him to demand more answers. To demand securities that he won’t let Credence down. That he won’t leave him behind. But his heart shut everything out and just wanted it to go back to before.

A warm hand was gently laying itself over Credence’s scratching one.

“Calm down. Nothing has changed. It’s just a name.”

He’s saying that but what about its connotation? Didn’t this mean they were in greater danger than Credence originally assumed? It certainly explained why Mr Graves had always been so cautious about attracting attention and why they were so quick to move when trouble arose. From what Credence gathered, many many people around the globe were after Grindelwald. Because he did...things. To create awareness. To free the wizards from their self-imposed oppression. And now instead of being slowly led into this conflict, being led towards _Grindelwald_ , and having time to prepare himself and think over it, Credence had to realize that he was already right in the eye of the storm.

Mr Graves’ hand squeezed his lightly, reclaiming Credence’s attention.

“You still stand with me, don’t you?”

What else was he supposed to do? Return to his old life? Never. This was an option he outright refused. He had fallen too deep into the rabbit’s hole by now. And even if everyone was mad here it was where he belonged, wasn’t it?

“...Yes.”

 “Good.” The smile on Mr Graves’ face was pleased.

Credence tardily realized that even in all those weeks with Mr Gaves he still hadn’t been free. Not truly. He had somehow exchanged one cage, one _dependency_ , against another. Which should really bother him more than it did.... But at least Mr Graves was _fighting_ for freedom. This was what he wanted above everything, right? What he needed Credence for? To enable people like them to walk freely amongst the streets. To held their heads up high. To not be afraid anymore of muggles hurting and hunting them out of misplaced fear and ignorance.

Even if Credence was set up right in the heart of the chaos, he thought he could deal with it. It would be fine. It had been so far and to his own surprise, he _still_ believed in the other man.

Mr Graves (Grindelwald, Grindelwald, _Grindelwald_! He repeated in his head) squeezed his hand again to create eye contact between Credence and him. And when Credence focused back in on the others gently smiling face he felt... something. Unknown warmth that spread from where they touched, up his arm and then all through his body. It felt like the time he had succeeded in his first lumos spell; Powerful and overwhelming and like divinity itself was pervading through him. For a moment he thought he saw light radiating off of other man’s body. Goosebumps flushed Credence skin and he felt himself inhale a deep, shaky breathe.

The story of Moses and the burning bush came to his mind.

But then it was all over again and Mr Graves released his hand. Credence realized only slowly that his other hand had come up to clutch the triangle amulet with a violent grip. His skin hurt were the pointy edges dug mercilessly into it.

...What just happened...?

Mr Graves poured himself another cup of coffee and took a sip of the steaming hot beverage.

“In case you’re wondering, you can call whichever you prefer in private. But in public I’m afraid I’ve to insist that you stick with Mr Graves. Or Perry if you wish to follow in Henning’s footsteps.”

Credence nodded absentmindedly, his eyes still directed in an unfocused stare at his lingering hand at the table. His heart was beating a hundred miles an hour and his head was spinning. This had been... otherworldly.

Mr Graves put a bun onto his plate and patted his shaky hand, like a parent would a child that just discovered Santa Clause was real.

“You should eat something. It’s quite good.”

“Yeah...”

 

++++++

 

 

They were yet in another train with another too small cabin to comfortably fit all three of them in. Full moon has passed and they were back on their journey to the east.

After many hours of consideration, Credence had decided to call his mentor by his original name; Gellert. It felt off to continue calling him Mr Graves and Grindelwald sounded like a whole other oversized concept that he still wasn’t quite grasping yet (especially after that touch during breakfast). By calling the other man Gellert, Credence could at least partially pretend that this was Mr Graves’ first name and felt only slightly awkward while doing so.

Though, by now it seemed like Credence was the only one who hadn’t changed his name yet.

When they were close to the Czech border and waited for the conductor to control their passports, Gellert had turned towards him and explained:

“The eastern Europeans are still a bit sore about the Germans and Austrians thanks to the Great War. So we decided to go with the English version of Henning’s name for the time being.”

This statement had taken Credence by surprise. But after a few seconds of digesting this information he slowly replied.

“...Greyback?”

Mr Graubuckel snorted in a disapproving way but Gellert quietened him with a quick glance.

“Very good, Credence. I see you picked up some words while we’ve been in Berlin.”

He did, to his own surprise. However, it did seem odd to him that now both men had changed their names for political reasons. There was still so much to learn, not just about magical aspects of life.

The conductor had lingered for a bit as he was studying their papers. Credence wasn’t worried that they would get in trouble. Magic was on their side and papers were the least of their problems. But he did wonder how they must look to the conductor; three Englishmen that couldn’t be any more different in appearance and age. They probably looked suspicious either way (though _Mr Greyback_ attracted attention wherever he went).

When they passed the border without any problems, Mr Graubuckel declared that they would use the next few hours to further their meditation sessions. He already planned to up their training as soon as they arrived in their next temporary home. Gellert will be present as well. So far he had always left them alone to further Credence concentration on the matter. But since Mr Graubuckels next step was to tickle parts of the obscurus out of Credence so he can try to control it, Gellert had insisted to be there as well. In case something would go wrong.

Credence was nervous about this next step, but he tried not to think about it while they prepared the cabin for meditation.

Gellert had left a few minutes ago with a book and his journal under his arms to bypass their training time in the dining car. He’d work there while the other two would work in the cabinet.

Credence already sat down on the seats, legs folded and back as straight as can be, while Mr Graubuckel still prepared the incense. By now he was used to the foreign smell, but he was convinced that these incense sticks were magical items as well. They didn’t bear the usual heavy and stuffy smell with them but felt rather refreshing and cleansing. Like the morning air on a forest clearing. Credence also heavily doubted that the werewolf could even endure normal incense, what with his sensitive nose and all that.

It wasn’t the first time he wondered how the other actually perceived the world around him. The obscurus had similar fine tuned senses, but they still couldn’t reach the ones the werewolf possessed every hour of the day. Mr Graubuckel has been transformed early in his childhood and didn’t remember how it has been prior his half man half beast state. What he did pride himself in though was his long linage of werewolf that was apparently an unheard rarity. The children in his family got the bite latest when they were five years old, so that they would grow up learning to coexist with the wolf and don’t turn into mindless beasts. Credence already knew from books, that werewolves weren’t exactly welcomed in the wizarding community, something Mr Graubuckel sought to change by his alliance with Gellert.

Once Credence had asked him whether Mr Graubuckel had already turned people, he had answered “Only those who wanted the bite. The wolf is a gift and not a curse. People need to understand that, which they won’t if I run around aimlessly turning people left and right.”

It was a fascinating subject to Credence and it astonished him how many parallels he could find between the muggle and the wizarding world. He found himself hoping more and more often that he’d be able to carry his own weight soon enough and help these rebellious men to achieve their dreams on a united wizard world that stood free and proud above the oppressing muggles.

“Gellert told me about you-know-what.”

Credence snapped out of his train of thought and looked puzzled to the feral man.

“Firstly, peaking is rude.” Oh. Ooooh. He was talking about-.... Mr Graubuckel sounded as nonchalant as ever. However, that statement came totally out of the blue and Credence could feel himself flush out of reflex. “But just so you know, he really just did it to calm the wolf. It gives it something to focus on during the full moon and retains me from a full transformation.”

Credence thought he saw a glimpse of embarrassment on Mr Graubuckel’s face but it was as quickly gone as it came. It was surprising enough that the other seemed to care at all what Credence thought about that night. Or him. Or Gellert. Maybe he felt just obliged to say something to keep the pressure off of Gellert. He did that sometimes, almost like a guard dog. Not that Credence would ever dare to say that out loud.

“I know. He explained that to me.”

Mr Graubuckel nodded in understanding and let himself drop down onto the seats on his side of the cabin.

“Good. Just wanted to make sure.”

They changed their positions to proper meditation posture. But just as Credence was heaving his prolonged breathe out to prepare himself mentally, Mr Graubuckel added-

“If you prefer, you can take over next time. I don’t mind either way.”

Credence’s vision darkened and he realized almost too late that he had forgotten to breathe in.

“Wha-wha-w-!”

Gellert was in his vision before he even noticed that the man was back.

“Not in this life, Henning.” There was a warning undertone in the usual smooth husk of Gellert’s voice. Credence merely ogled dumfounded at him as the other man angled past him to grab for something behind him.

Gellert had forgotten his wallet.

“Sh, quiet now. We’ve to concentrate on the inner beast.” Replied Mr Graubuckel with a certain amusement in his voice.

“I’m sure you do.” Was all Gellert said before he vanished back into the corridor.

And that was that.

Not ones had Credence been this antsy and lacked concentration during their sessions. Telling someone to-to... before meditation! Or, no, in general! Who does that?!

Credence threw a quick side glance to the relaxed form of Mr Graubuckel before he pressed his eyes close again.

Crazy German Werewolves. That’s who.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I’ll get the next chap out for xmas, so keep your eyes open for some xmas story time ;)


	6. Carol Of Bells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas is nigh and Credence and Gellert spend some quality time together~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) This is my xmas gift to my beautiful readers out there, so beware of some feels and fluff ahead :’3  
> 2) Just to clarify last chapters little reveal- In my head canon, Henning Graubuckel/Greyback is Fenrir Greyback’s father. I was always intrigued by this dark character and I like the idea of him coming from a) a long line of werewolves and b) having parentage that was already involved with other mighty n dark wizards in the past. Though Henning has ideals that Fenrir warped around quite a bit under Voldemort.  
> 3) As promised, this chapter is a lot longer than the last. I tried to make it worthwhile! Though I still had to rush through some parts cause I'm surprisngly busy during this holliday o^o usually I've more itme at hand, but oh well. I did what I could.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this Xmas chapter of my ff! Merry xmas to you all!!!!

++++++

 

Their final destination has been Kiev. When they had arrived, Credence could feel the uncertainty lingering within the bones of this old city. The October revolution had been only a few years ago and the newly founded UdSSR was still young. For whole nations everything had changed over-night and they still tried to deal with the impact of this violent transformation. Credence could very much relate to that. Gellert on the other hand had made several little comments about those events that made Credence wonder whether wizards or other magical beings had something to do with this drastic change in politics.

Mr Graubuckel (he was still not used to call him _Greyback_. One name change at a time) wasn’t staying under the same roof as them anymore. Apparently he had lots of friends in town as well as a cousin, so he was staying with one of them. He would still come by regularly though for Credence’s lessons. Surprisingly enough, despite the incident and his offhand comments, Credence didn’t feel any different about the werewolf. All his anxiety and worry had latched onto Gellert, leaving not enough room to worry about Mr Graubuckel as well. (Though now and then he did recall his naked form and it made Credence blush in embarrassment and confusion.)

On their second day in Kiev, Gellert and Credence were out to grab groceries, some magical ingredients that Gellert needed for something or other as well as new winter coats since Eastern Europe turned out to be much colder than they’d originally expected. The local magical district, Insha Storona, was further away than in other city they’ve been prior which surprised Credence. So far he’d always had the impression that Gellert preferred to reside directly at the border between muggle and wizarding world. But this time their flat was located away from the city centre and rather in an older, quieter part of town. 

Maybe it was to avoid the hustle and bustle that was currently all around the central area of Kiev. Credence had almost forgotten that Christmas was just around the corner! But seeing the magnificent decorations all around town, magical district or not, brought this fact explicitly back into his mind.

Especially in Insha Strorona even a blind person would instantly know that Christmas was nigh. The smells, the songs, the warmth from booths that sold hot beverages and roasted snacks.

It was breath taking.

As soon as they had entered the labyrinth of ancient narrow alleys, they saw a million tiny and bigger lights hovering in the air like multicoloured fireflies. When he tried to touch one of them his fingers just went right through it but his skin was pleasantly warm were the light had touched it. These fireflies reminded Credence partially of those that he had created during his first successful lumos spell. Just so much more beautiful with their heart warming, soft glow.

It was hard not to just stand still and endlessly watch them and the effect they have on the alleys before them.

But Gellert pulled him further along. He didn’t seem especially moved by the magnificent view before them. Maybe this display of Christmas decorations was just normal to him and nothing special at all? From somewhere Credence heard, what he assumed, were local Christmas carols.  And he quickly realized that the melodic voices weren’t just coming from one place but several corners; some nearby and some further away.

Even in New York he hadn’t seen or heard so many carollers at ones. Too bad he couldn’t understand what they were singing.

An elderly lady that looked like the picture book example of a sweet and gentle grandma offered him a free cup of mulled wine as Gellert bought two furry hats from her. Credence thanked her with one of the few Ukraine words he knew, but his eyes immediately went back to take in more of their surroundings.

He just couldn’t stop himself from taking everything in this market had to offer. It wasn’t his first visit to a magical area, by far!, but all these Christmas decorations made it seem so much more wonderful than it already would be. Like someone had ripped pages straight out of a fairytale book and made them come to life.

Child sized nutcrackers were walking about and offering people samples of the various snacks booth and shop owners were selling. Actual elf like looking creatures were wishing passerby’s a merry Christmas and one shop they passed had the whole Christmas scene with baby Jesus in his crib displayed; and not the way Credence was already used to it. No, this scene was displayed with incredibly detailed and beautiful dolls that moved about like real people would. They even realized Credence starring at them with wonder and excitement because Balthazar pocked Josef into the side and they were joyfully waving at him while Maria tickled baby Jesus.

The way Credence was instantly glued to everything he saw he couldn’t fault Gellert for gently pulling him along again and again. If he’d grown up with all this he might be somewhat annoyed too over all these stops every few meters.

Credence tried to keep his excitement in as best as he could. But the final straw was drawn when Snowflakes started to fall as well. When Credence looked up he noticed that the sky above them was still as crystal clear and star hung as it had been before. He had read about weather spells before, for actual economic purposes as well as decorative ones. Still, seeing this now so suddenly on displayed baffled him. And when the snowflakes that landed on his face smelt surprisingly sweet, he just had to stick his tongue out. The moment he caught some he realized to his own surprise that they were tasting of roasted almonds, cotton candy and baked apples.

His face must have lit up like a Christmas tree.

A hand came up to stroke through his quickly moistening hair and a second later Gellert was putting the newly bought hat over his dark waves. When Credence turned towards him, still with a beaming smile on his face, he saw that Gellert as wearing his hat as well.

“Don’t eat too many, they are surprisingly filling.”

Credence nodded but he really didn’t mind. Who knew when he would have another chance to lick flavoured snowflakes straight out of the sky?

“How do you usually spend Christmas?”The question was out before he could think about it. The whole situation made him giddy like he’s never been before. Not even as a child.

Gellert gave him a half shrug and gently ushered him around the next corner, past more elves who wanted to invite them into the sweets shop behind them.

“Since I’m away from home, not at all. I’m not a fan of this muggle concept of some supposed miracle infant that was only born to die horribly in the name of humanity’s sins.”

“Oh...” Credence almost forgot about Gellert’s view of pretty much every religion. Or maybe he had actually expected a somehow different reaction to Christmas since it seems to be the only Holliday were even the biggest grumps would feel festive and celebratory. He just still didn’t know enough about the other man..

“What about you?”Gellert asked and Credence looked at him in open surprise. Usually Gellert didn’t like him to talk about church, especially not the better experiences.

He had to think about his question for a moment. More sweetness from the magical snow embraced him and his face felt warmer than it did before.

“Well, we usually spend it in the church. Helping out the less fortunate, singing hymns and gospels, playing the nativity story and all that. And at the evening we’d sit together with whoever else stuck around in church and enjoy a nice meal.” He left unsaid that this was pretty much the only time in the year that Ma seemed less stressed and was somewhat generous towards his siblings by giving them extra portions of food or letting the laugh and joke to their hearts content. Credence had been the exception of this generosity but he had been content seeing his little siblings enjoy themselves.

Gellert might have sensed that he was holding back something, because all he said was “I see.” and continued their walk down the alley. It was okay though. Credence could deal with him not liking this festive season. Everything looked to wonderful to not appreciate it and trying to brand it as an eternal memory into the back of his mind.

 

++++++

 

It seemed like Credence had fallen asleep after today’s training with Gellert. He awoke, groggy, disorientated and hungry, on the old couch in their current apartment. A woolly blanket had been placed over him and for a moment he thought he might be still sleeping. An unknown melody reached his subconscious as he slowly came to.

His body was sleep-heavy and that soft melody relaxed him almost enough to go right back into slumber land. But when Credence actually cracked open one of his eyes he looked right at the clock on the wall. It was seven pm. Christmas Eve.   

The second thing he noticed was the warm light gracing his view. His eye wandered and his breath stocked when he saw an actual _Christmas tree_ in the living room corner that hadn’t been there when they were training. How-...? Why-...?! Gellert disliked clearly Christmas. So why would he-? Credence moved this bit on the couch to be able to see with both eyes. Was this a dream? It could very well be because the tree before him was perfection; ever green and full and soft looking while being hung with gold and red ornaments as well as magical candles that seemed to function like the hovering lights in Insha Storona. Credence had never seen such a simple and beautiful thing at ones. Not in their church, not even at the market. It was-.... it was-...!

And then Credence noticed the other curio in this room... It was Gellert, sitting next to the tree barefoot at the old piano that had come with the apartment. The candle lights illuminated his back in a soft, warm manner. Credence had no clue the other could play. Or whether that’s even something wizards could do at all, since it seemed to be such a muggle thing. But then he remembered Gellert’s general love for music that he’d exhibited in Berlin and it didn’t seem like such a surprise after all.

Credence couldn’t quite see his finger work since Gellert’s back was covering his hands, but for some reason his eyes were fixated on the older man’s bare feet. It was such an oddly...vulnerable sight. Like a life portrait of a misunderstood artist.

In a way, this was what Gellert was.

“You’ve been out like a light.” Gellert suddenly said, his voice sounding further away than usual. Like he was too absorbed in his gentle piano play, not quite ready yet to resurface back into the real world.

Nevertheless, Credence _had to_ ask.

“What is all this?”

The piano notes slightly speed up, rose in their attention. Their emotion. Their passion.

“Where I come from we exchange our presents on Christmas Eve.”

Presents...? Credence felt a flutter go through his body. He hadn’t expected any of this. The tree alone was a miracle to him. A silent gesture so beautiful like no one else had ever done for him. He hadn’t asked for any of this, and still, Gellert-....

“I don’t understand-...”

“I assume you never got a real present for Christmas.”

Credence faintly shook his head. He knew Gellert couldn’t see him from his position but he must have still sensed his silent reply.

“Well, do you want one now?”

“I- I-...”

“Yes or no?”

“...Yes.”

Gellert nodded sideways towards the glowing tree. And how come Credence hadn’t noticed it before? There were two small, wrapped boxes underneath the tree. An overwhelming feeling arose in him that made his throat hurt in that certain way. That way that told you, you might cry any moment now. But he couldn’t have that. Not with everything that was presented to him. Not with the obvious care Gellert had put into this. He wanted to smile and thank him, but all his body was currently capable of was feeling steamrolled with awe and overflowing emotions.  When did Gellert even buy these things? At the market? Granted, Credence had been so distracted by everything there, it would have been easy to sneak things past him.

Credence held the blanket wrapped around him as he carefully rose from the couch and tip toed over to the tree. It served as a protective layer to keep this dreamlike state alive. And who knew? Maybe it really was just a dream after all, but he really really hoped it wasn’t.

The tree radiated warmth that went all the way to his bones. Maybe that’s why Gellert could be barefoot even with the freezing cold outside. Credence knelt down before the two packages and nervously angled after the flatter one. The wrapping was simple red paper but it looked like the most precious thing ever made. Too precious for someone like him. There was a certain reluctance in him to open the present because he felt like he hasn’t appreciated it enough yet. Not the actual gift within the wrapping but the gesture behind it all. But he also didn’t want Gellert to think he didn’t wanted it, so he took a deep breath in. His fingers were shaking when he slightly unwillingly began to peel the protective layer away.

Underneath the precious red was a radiant blue. A royal blue, like he’d seen in many old paintings. It belonged to a book. Black lines built an elegant pattern that framed the cover. There was a rich, leathery feeling underneath his finger tips and he wondered how they managed to dye it in such a vibrant colour. When he opened the book though, he realized that it wasn’t just a mere book; it was a notebook. His _own_ notebook. Just like Gellert’s but for him. A private journal.

“You can write whatever in it. Spells, discoveries, your daily life. It’s all up to you. I won’t peak, don’t worry.” Gellert spoke as if he’d red his thoughts. And maybe he did. Who could say by now what this man was truly capable of.

Credence’s fingers stroked carefully along the yellowish, empty pages. The paper was thick and felt like he was touching something special. Something that had been created with great care and love for their craft. It was magnificent.

And this was exactly what he also told Gellert. “It is truly magnificent. I don’t know how to thank you...”

“First open the other one.”

Gellert’s fingers where still dancing along the piano keys like it was the most natural thing in the world for him. The melody had changed to something that Credence thought he might recognize from somewhere. Maybe from some French composer?

The second box was wrapped in the same beautiful red but squared rather than rectangular. Credence felt the same lingering reluctance to open it as he did before. He wanted to cherish this moment forever. But then he’d also never know what else Gellert got him.

Inside the paper was a simple white carton and inside that was-...

“A candy apple?”

“You looked like you really wanted one.”

He did. Every time they had passed someone who sold these in Insha Storona, Credence had deeply inhaled the sweet smell of caramel and warmed up fruit. He had only ever had one in his life, back when he had been still very small. It was hard to remember the exact flavour, but what he did remember was the good feel it had given him all those years ago. Like Christmas that happened in his mouth, full of sweetness and wonder.

“They’re magical ones though, so I must warn you. Those apples always come with a random surprise effect.”

Credence didn’t mind. Even if he ended up hovering under the ceiling or glowing like a Christmas tree- He was certain he’d love every second of consuming this candy apple. Even more so because Gellert had given it to him. The apple and the notebook. His very first gifts ever...

That feeling in his throat was back with full force and Credence tried hard to swallow around it. But he could already feel how his vision started to blur and how the corners of his mouth just wouldn’t go down anymore. He has never been this happy. His mind didn’t know how to handle it and his heart felt like it might break out of his chest any moment.

“I don’t have anything for you...” Credence admitted and guilt mixed itself under the overflowing joy and gratitude.

The piano play suddenly stopped and from the corner of his eyes Credence could see how Gellert turned towards him. When he looked up to meet his eyes, Gellert confronted him with a mysterious smile.

“Touch me.”

Credence eyes went big before his brain truly realized what the other man had said. Had he gone mad? Or perhaps it was really all just a dream. Gellert couldn’t possibly have said what he just thought to have heard.

But before his mind could spiral away in confusion and disbelieve, Gellert added:

“You like me, don’t you?”

A violent flush conquered Credence’s pale face but he nodded nevertheless.

“Then would you like to touch me? I figured it’d be a good mutual gift.”

 _The best_ , Credence thought with a flaming head.

His eyes flicked down for a moment to look again at the other’s bare feet, calmly resting on the plush carpet. He bit his lip to calm his nerves but decided to reach forward before he over thought it too much. His left hand softly stroked over the exposed skin of the back of Gellert’s foot. It was as warm as he had expected. But he didn’t stop there, even though he easily could. But his nerves edged him forward. Pressed him to use this offer for what’s it worth, never mind that he had no real idea what he was doing. He just followed his instincts. Followed what he had wanted to do for so long.

Credence’s hand slowly wandered upwards Gellert’s shin, caressed his knee and carefully felt up the strong muscles within his thigh. By now he was kneeling in front of Gellert and he could feel the woolly blanket sliding off his back as he lifted his right hand as well to explore the man before him. He knew Gellert was strong but it was still something different to feel this strength. This raw power-  physically, mentally and magically.

He let his hands glide upwards, almost rushed along the chest to grab firmly for the other’s neck and gently pull him down towards himself.

“Can I...?” the question was still shy but the hunger within him was great. He just hadn’t quite realized until now _how great_. It seemed to have grown quite a lot over the last weeks.

The Christmas lights behind Credence illuminated Gellert’s face like one of those masterful portraits. Like he was a holy figure captured by the greatest artists in history. The open, encouraging smile that Gellert gave him made his heart jump anew.

“Of course.”

And before he knew it, he had pulled Gellert all the way down and their lips met for the second time. Credence wanted to instantly melt into it, melt against Gellert, but his body was overwhelmed with a form of greed he’d never experienced before. He wanted more of this. More of Gellert. More touches.

Credence was the first to open his mouth and probe against Gellert’s lips to do the same. He followed this silent demand promptly and met him midway with his own warm tongue. Adrenaline and endorphins shot through his system like drugs. The world was spinning out of control but for the first time it was more than okay because whatever happened next, he had Gellert to cling to. The thought still barely registered with him. He would probably wake up tomorrow and only then freak out when he realized what he’d done. What _they_ had done. But that was tomorrow and now was now.

It felt messy to explore Gellert’s mouth but at the same time it was such an intoxicating feeling. The taste was a wild mixture between coffee, mint and something that must be purely Gellert. Credence has never been drunk before but he could imagine that must be what it felt like.

Gellert was first to retreat enough to get some air back into his lunges. His forehead was leaning against Credence and although he was so close Credence could feel the other man mirror his smile. Even if it probably wasn’t half as dopey as his.

“Did you like your gifts?”

Credence licked subconsciously over his lips to hunt down the traces of Gellert there.

“Very much so.”

Gellert chuckled in that husky voice of his and gave him a quick peck.

“I’m glad.”

The older man straightened himself back up while pulling Credence up from the ground and navigating him into his lap. A violent flush ran over Credence face but he didn’t have much time to think about this new position because Gellert was right at his throat, nipping and licking and sucking away. A strangled noise left him which was quickly replaced by a soft moan when the other bit him at the spot right below his ear. How could this possibly feel so good? Credence knew his body mainly to be able to endure pain, but he hadn’t thought that it’d be also capable of being so easily pleasured.

Gellert firmly took a hold of his buttocks and pushed his slender body down against his own crotch. Credence could feel that the other was similarly aroused if not yet as plum as he himself was. But even if the touch between them was clothed it felt like an explosion of sensations within his body and mind. His blunt nails dug into the soft skin of Gellert’s neck and his teeth dug anew into his own lip. He heard how the other chuckled into his ear the same way he had done with Mr Graubuckel all spread out before him and a violent shiver run threw him.

“Still so sweet.” Gellert murmured and licked alluring along his earlobe. Credence hips shot forward on their own while his head moved against the others mouth. Wave after electrical wave went through his body like a lightening shower. And Gellert, Gellert took the hint and continued to nip and bite and lick along his ear. He’d never thought that he’d be so sensitive at such a seemingly secondary body part. But every new touch from Geller’s mouth made his body feel like pudding.

The older man’s hands shifted from him buttocks to his hips, urging him wordlessly to move his hips in a rotating motion. Rubbing their respective crotches together like this. More pleasant shivers marched up and down Credence’s spine and a strangely strangled noise left his throat. He felt horribly over-stimulated already but at the same time it felt like it wasn’t enough. He still wanted more more more...

“There you go.” Gellert muttered in approval.

It took Credence a moment to get used to this motion, to stay balanced on the slender piano bench but he quickly got into a good rhythm. He must look absolutely ridiculous, the way he shifted around  and made all these indecent noises, but he didn’t care. As long as Gellert was here and looked at him like he wanted to eat him whole, he was okay with perhaps everything.

Credence touched the amulet that Gellert had given him all those weeks, _months_ , ago.

 _Don’t forgive me lord for what I know what I am doing._ Credence thought coyly, arched his back in the most lewd way and brought their bodies even closer together. He was so hard in his thin cotton  pants, it started to hurt. But somehow this ache was the first time that even pain could feel real good.

It became harder and harder to think. His vision blurred around the edges. His hands angled frantically for Gellert’s head to guide him back into a fevered kiss. The taste has changed somewhat; there was something that was almost addicting. Credence barely noticed how he licked out Gellert’s mouth, fought with him over dominance in this kiss, while his hips continued to roll over and over against the others hard crotch.

And then it was over almost as quickly as the heat had started; A jolt more violent than any other before went through his body, his toes curled within his woolly socks and his head dropped away from the kiss onto Gellert’s shoulders to moan against his strong neck. Pleasant shivers shock him while he could feel a warm wetness pooling in his still clothed nether-regions.

Credence breath only slowly calmed down from its panting state. His eyes remained firmly closed as he continued to breathe in the familiar smell of the other man and just enjoyed this blissful moment for as long as he could. As long he was allowed to. It was the most surreal and happy he had ever felt. Gellert’s hands were gently stroking over his back and through his hair. He could stay like this forever..

But as reality slowly started to seep back in, Credence realized that Gellert was still hard against his thigh. As a try, the young man moved his hips slightly against him but hissed at the overstimulation at his own crotch and the increasingly sticky feeling there.

The hand on his back moved to hold his hips in place and he felt Gellert’s head softly shake above him.

“That’s enough for now. One step at a time.”

At this Credence straightened himself up and looked at the other in confusion. He’d never done this before with someone else but it felt like common etiquette that you don’t leave before both parties were satisfied. Did he do something wrong?

Ones again Gellert must have red his mind cause he smiled in that gentle way of his and gave him a peck on the swollen lips.

“Don’t worry, it’s all good.” His messy waves got pulled away from his heated face and back behind his ears. “Go take a bath. We’ll eat something after.”

Credence nodded but before he lifted himself from the other he gave him a hug and inhaled his intoxicating sense one more time. A smile crept up on his own face. He wanted to say so many things, had so many questions. But he settled for a simple:

“Merry Christmas, Gellert.”

“..... Merry Christmas, Credence.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Xmas (n happy Hanuka for our Jewish readers) everyone!!!! Hope you enjoyed this little Christmas adventure :3  
> This was probably the most innocent sexy times I’ve ever written lol It was surprisingly hard to hold the tone wit Credence more formal and “pure” voice and not go into my usual sexy talk pattern. I mean, damn, the boy doesn’t even really swear! :’’D  
> Anyhoo~ Enjoy your holidays! May you spend it with your loved ones and get lots of great presents :D Will go with my dad to the cinema now to watch the new Star Wars *hrhrhrhrhr*


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